by LeAnn Mason
Jade jumped in, her eyes alight at the revelation that she understood why I was excited. "The other images cannot be corroborated, and those are the images which seem out of place from Jareth's normal mental display!" She lunged forward and hugged me. "Wow, we really can make a difference, can't we?"
"Okay, let me see if I understand what you are saying here," Commander James said, still looking a bit flustered at my explanation. He rubbed at his eyes but soldiered on. "You think his mind has been tampered with?"
"I do."
"The whole initial incident—fabricated."
"Yes."
Dane's attention volleyed between the rest of us. Apparently he wasn't quite there yet. This is why I’d been brought in to help, sometimes Primals just wouldn't follow a path where it led unless it was lit by neon and had an arrow.
"Well, shit. This complicates things, at least morally." Commander James's voice was thick as his mind churned furiously, attempting to explain it.
"Why only morally?" Jade wondered.
"I can't release him, even if his motive was somewhat valid. He still beat a man nearly to death. He has to do his time." Those words fell heavily onto my shoulders, pushing me toward the floor. Jareth was going to lose what freedom he had because someone decided to mess with his mind. Well, in part. He did flip and nearly kill the guy, which may have been a bit excessive, but he wouldn't have done it if not for the implanted visual of his neighbor striking his wife.
What worried me most about this scenario was that the ninnies could use it to say it proved them right, no matter that they have done such things for millennia. Things like this would brand Enhanced for eternity. Would we ever be allowed to integrate with Non-Enhanced populations? Would things get worse? I wasn't aware of any Sage who could project images, and the fact that the first one I came across was using his ability to cause others fear and pain pissed me the hell off.
"We'll have to inform the director that Jareth will need to go into holding and await his trial, though he may wish to take a deal considering…" the commander looked woeful but resigned. We all knew it would be nearly impossible for Jareth to move forward unscathed, his best bet would be to take a deal if one was offered. "Nathalee," he began, "What can you tell us about the implanted scene?"
Blowing out a breath, I reflected. "The scene was a different 'tone' as I said. Everyone has their own mental signature, a particular way they think things. Not only in terms of phrases, words or images, but also a mental 'voice' for each. I may be able to discover who our perpetrator is by this mental frequency, should I come across it again."
I twisted my mouth into a rueful smile, the truth was while that was probably true, being in a situation in which I would be able to hear this person was a longshot at best. We had no clue who it could be and no idea where to look.
At least, I didn't.
"All right, new plan. We need to get you girls into training ASAP and move my existing enforcers to see what we can find out about anyone with such ability." I watched the wheels turn in Commander James’s mind, listened to him list out procedures and tasks for various Primals to start the search. "Also, once you are in training full time, we have accommodations for you. When might that be?"
I blinked. "Accommodations?"
"Yes, we are grouping the team together in a dorm-like setting, so everyone is in the same approximate location for call outs and training." He looked at me. "The walls are reinforced, so maybe you'll have some quiet time." There was emphasis on quiet. "Until that time, you need to come here and train. We need you functional in the field."
"I thought you wanted me in controlled situations," I smirked at him, pulling a hand to my hip. "You know, keeping us Sages all safe and tucked away."
Dane spoke up then. "I think you’re going to be needed in the field, at least on this one." He looked to Commander James for confirmation–and received it. "You are the only one who knows that mental signature, and as of right now, it's our only lead."
Way to put the pressure on a girl. "What am I supposed to do? Walk around town aimlessly and hope I stumble across his frequency at some point?"
"No, I'm putting enforcers on it immediately. We'll try to narrow the search. Who knows, maybe we'll get lucky and this guy was obvious and this will be over in no time."
"All right, I need to give my notice to Doctor Parmore. Give me a few days for her to replace me. After that, we're all yours to mold," I gave a sardonic salute and added with a smirk, "Commander." He rolled his eyes at me and walked toward the tech area of the command center. Wow, he really handles my sarcasm well. He pawed through the gadgets piled at one end of the tables until he came up with another com, which he handed to Jade.
"This is a direct link, both me to you, and you to me. If we contact either of you before your training officially begins, it means we need your…expertise. Hopefully, we will not need to use it. Good luck on your last days in civilian work, and we will see you soon. Thank you for coming," his eyes bore into mine as he continued, "you are already invaluable." I pursed my lips and gave a curt nod, turning to leave the room.
"Bye, Nathalee," Dane boomed. Much softer he added, "It was a pleasure meeting you Jade. Well, mostly. I apologize for my lapse," He mentally chided himself for reverting.
"It was very nice meeting you as well, Dane. Commander James," she dipped her chin in acknowledgment. "I'm sorry, for…earlier," she was berating herself also. I decided to head out and give them the space they needed to get over their respective guilt, and heat.
"C'mon, Jade, I figured I'd grab pizza for dinner. Dad's on call at the hospital today. You interested?"
"Yeah, let me tell my parents.” Then she turned to the enforcers. “Again, it was nice meeting you. Thank you very much for the opportunity."
Having said our goodbyes, Jade and I headed back through the gym and into the waning sunlight. Apparently we had been there for a while, as the sun was nearly setting. Pizza, then home. We set off to accomplish just that.
CHAPTER 11
JADE AND I SPENT the evening discussing our thoughts on being a part of the enforcers, and being girly. I took the time to fill her in on all that I hadn't before meeting with Dane and the commander; all that happened before we were aware that there was a Sage who had the ability to implant scenes into another's mind and using this ability in a harmful way.
By phone, Jade told her parents she was going to join the enforcers. I stifled a laugh when her mom fainted from worry. Her dad wasn't much better, and I was sure the discussion wasn’t over. I was proven right when Jade came back to my house Sunday afternoon after going home earlier in the day.
She showed up with a suitcase in hand, and I shuffled her into my room, letting my parents know of the development. My mom praised the commander for seeing the worth of Sages in enforcement, and Dad loved the fact that Jade and I could watch each other's back. It would most likely be him we were to see if things didn't go well, so he wanted as much protection as possible. In as many forms as we could get it.
I really wanted to get back to the barn, and my lessons with Holden, but I had too much to do in preparation for my last days with the professor.
When Monday rolled around, I was happy that the lecture pertained to world history in some capacity. I had studied the subject heartily as I wanted to know about the world which would consistently go to war, taking innumerable lives, but felt we were the threat. I’m not sure how much of our subject matter was censored, or just plain left out, but I wanted to know what I could.
They say knowledge is power. Maybe that was why so little knowledge about us to the world was allowed. The Enhanced were quite the mystery to the general Non-Enhanced population, until recently. Apparently the ninnies forgot that they locked a lot of really smart people away together.
Once the internet took off, Sage took full advantage. There were plenty of informational and social media sites that painted the Enhanced as wrongly “imprisoned” and misunderstood people who were just like e
veryone else, but with added perks. It should come as no surprise that Sage were behind the propaganda.
After gathering tests and escaping the room, I made my way to Dr. Parmore’s offices to relay that I would not be with her after the week ended. She spluttered and fidgeted, indignant. I felt bad that my notice was so short, but the position would be filled easily. I could kid myself and think that she actually liked me, but alas her lack of verbal response was closer to non-belief.
When I told her I was going to be a consultant, she tried to get me to tell her where and for whom. I wasn't sure what Commander James wanted me to say, if I wasn't supposed to say I was working for the enforcers, so I didn’t. I'd have to ask. After working for a few hours with an especially cross Dr. Parmore, I was able to make my way to the barn. To Holden. Pssh, don't think like that.
With my earbuds in, I walked in blissful ignorance of the world around me. Taking my time and soaking up as much of the melodies as possible. Today I was listening to electric classical and it was energizing. The screaming violin and rapid piano put a bounce in my step and I bobbed my head as I made my way along the busy main stretch of town toward the barn.
People congregated in small groups around tables outside The Corner Bean as I stopped in to grab a beverage. The groups were largely comprised of what I assumed to be Primal males off shift from their labor-intensive jobs, all huddled closely but speaking at levels much higher than needed for their close proximity.
I was engrossed in dueling cellos and getting caffeine into my system when I stepped back into the afternoon sunlight and into a scene from a tragic movie. I froze mid-step, looking like an awkward statue. One foot hovering in front of me, and the cup frozen inches from my mouth. I was a funny sight, certainly. But what I was seeing, what had frozen my movements, was far from comical.
I watched in seemingly slow motion as a man cast a horrified look toward the busy street and sprinted like a spooked deer into the roadway. He’d made it just over halfway when a red rock-crawler sped to the same spot.
The impact was deafening. The screech of tires and noxious smell of burnt rubber couldn't drown out the thuds and crunches of metal meeting flesh. Neither could my earbuds. The struck man was thrown yards, his head impacting the pavement with a loud crack, which jolted me into motion. My drink hit the ground, forgotten. I stumbled as my foot finally came to rest on the sidewalk.
Then I was running.
People were congregating around the man lying bloody and broken in the street. The woman who had been driving the vehicle was outside her vehicle standing with hands covering her mouth, her eyes wide in terrified shock. Her thoughts were a screaming mess. She was falling apart with guilt.
I rushed past her and into the throng of onlookers. My jockeying through the crowd nearly dislodged one of my earbuds, which at any other time would have annoyed me into fixing it, but not this time. This time, I ignored it and barreled into the throng.
It appeared no one had medical training, or were too shell shocked to move into action, as they all just stood over the unconscious man with wide eyes, gaping mouths, and stunned disbelief wafting from their minds.
Useless, all of them.
I finished shoving my way through the horde and dropped to my knees beside the critically injured man. The accident had occurred at no more than forty miles per hour, but the vehicle and man had been a perfect storm.
The man was stocky but not overly tall, and the Jeep was perfectly in line with his hips, allowing him to be catapulted. Thick red liquid seeped from the corner of his mouth and a similar puddle was expanding like a red halo atop the dark pavement behind his head. Blood. One arm was bent so his hand was almost touching his face, the back of the hand down the arm was shredded from sliding along the street’s rough surface.
His hips were no longer level, the right inches lower. It didn't look good, like the impact had crushed it, the accompanying leg rested at an angle too great to be naturally achieved, aiding in my belief of major hip damage.
I reached out and felt along the man's neck for a pulse, trying to keep my frantic heart from escaping my chest and my mind toward aid and away from the shock everyone else seemed to be locked into. Pushing my fingers along his carotid, I sagged with relief. He was alive. The pulse was weak, but steady. He must’ve been a Primal to withstand injuries such as these.
"Someone call emergency!" I shouted at the large group of “lookie loos.” Shocked looks and proverbial crickets were my answer. It wasn't until that moment that I realized I heard an instrumental version of a song centered around death. The melancholy timbre much clearer than the internal dialogue of the onlookers.
Ripping the foreboding music unceremoniously away from my ears, I growled in frustration and rifled through my messenger bag until I came across my phone. Quickly dialing the emergency response number, I waited for the call to be connected. Now that I was no longer shielded by enveloping melodic sounds, the surrounding noises and voices assailed me.
Those in the immediate vicinity were both shrieking and doing the mental equivalent of rocking in the corner, or at the other end of the mental spectrum and were relatively unconcerned. There was surprisingly little street noise, and the traffic seemed to have stopped. No, not stopped, but backed up with cars lining down the street. Soon the honking would start and the quiet presently permeating the air would shatter like a rock through a glass window.
The emergency dispatcher picked up the line just as the first impatient honk rang out. Soon it would be its own awful melody, which I could not drown out with the volume of my music. "Minefield Emergency," a female voice intoned through the connection.
"I'm on Main by The Corner Bean and a man has been struck—launched really, by a car. He’s alive but unconscious and with severe injuries to an unknown extent." I tried to remember what types of things should be relayed in emergency situations in order to achieve the best result, but it was hard while also trying to contain my shock. My father always spoke concisely, giving highlights and leaving out anything unnecessary. I think I said my piece fairly well and was told that paramedics had been dispatched and should be at our location soon. I was still wound up, and hearing that help would be here "soon," was not overly comforting.
I sat back on my heels and tossed my phone into the bag to be lost amongst the paper scraps and discarded remains of long-ago eaten snacks once again when the commander's com caught my eye. Pulling it out, I ran my thumb across the shield and waited as the tone rang out. Immediately, Commander James's deep timbre came across, "Natha-"
"There's been a major traffic accident out front of The Corner Bean. A man has been struck by a car…” I exhaled a shaky breath. “It's bad."
"I'll get the closest units to your location to clear the area and speak to witnesses. Has emergency been dispatched?"
"Yes, though I'm not sure how long they'll be." With the words barely out of my mouth, I heard a sound of pure masculine anguish reverberate through my skull. Having so many people around normally made it difficult to discern what came from whom.
This situation however, was so far from normal that I knew the sound would only be made by the man seemingly coming back into consciousness; and with that state of awareness, the accompanying physical agony his body was in.
"He's becoming mentally aware, Commander, and he is in extreme pain." I worried my bottom lip with my teeth as I ended the call and reached out to put a hand on the still seemingly unconscious man’s shoulder, hoping to relay that he was being looked after, that he wasn't alone. "Don't try to move." I tried to make myself sound as soothing as possible, but I wasn’t sure anything would breach his veil of agony. I slumped, closing my eyes and exhaling a breath I didn't realize I had been holding, my fortitude crumbling as I heard the telltale wail of a siren growing steadily nearer.
A hand found its way to my shoulder and squeezed gently, snapping me out of my respite. I opened my eyes and peered over my shoulder, which was difficult while kneeling on the street if I
wanted to keep contact with the man.
The eyes mine found as I turned were once again blazing silver, making me wonder just what triggered the change. Holden's features were no less striking in their stony state. I soaked up the sight of him. His unruly dark hair was more mussed than usual, leaving me to wonder if he ran here from the barn, a crease of unease sat between his brows. Jaw set and lips thinned, Holden crouched at my side. His solid frame looking no smaller for it being closer to the ground.
How are you holding up?
I looked toward the brutalized man sprawled in front of me. The good news was that the blood halo didn't seem to be increasing any longer, though I think that was about the best I could say about his appearance.
The sirens had been getting louder and now sounded as though they were surrounding me. Finally, real help’s here. Two uniformed medics pushed their way through the still gaping throng to where I knelt by the victim's still form and proceeded to assess the situation.
I took that as permission to finally ease away from my charge and rocked back onto my heels and pushed to my feet. Holden's hand once again found my shoulder, though this time he pulled me backward into his embrace.
Nathalee, he softly probed. One hand swept hair away from my face and the other wrapped around my waist to keep me close. I was lost in the feel of Holden at my back, surrounding me, making me feel safe and more comfortable than I should be considering the degree of injury and blood I had been inches from only moments before.
I closed my eyes once again, this time soaking up as much of the calm that Holden enveloped me in as I was able. Nothing else penetrated my bubble. There was no injured man broken and bleeding mere feet from us, no throng of gossipy onlookers to burst this blissful bubble I currently stood inside. No visual replay of the inevitable disaster playing in an infinite loop in my mind. Just the feel of being utterly surrounded by the male I could not stop thinking about, and I wanted to relish it.