The 4400- the Vesuvius Prophecy

by Greg Cox

  Fortunately, she wasn’t fully awake yet. No doubt her own repose had been blissfully serene. “Shawn?” Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she woozily lifted her head from the pillow. “Wait for me . . .”

  He pretended he didn’t hear her.

  Exiting his private suite, which had formerly belonged to the late Jordan Collier, he stepped out into the hall where he found Richard Tyler up and about. Guess he’s a light sleeper, too, Shawn thought. “You hear that, too?”

  Richard nodded grimly. “Two gunshots.” He had seen combat in Korea and knew what he was talking about. “Coming from downstairs.”

  Shawn heard people stirring in the other apartments. Worried faces started peering out of doorways. Devon Moore, his personal assistant, looked to him anxiously. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Are we in danger?” A chorus of competing voices echoed her fears. “Was that a gun?”

  Shawn guessed that he probably wasn’t the only one remembering Jordan Collier’s assassination. A concealed sniper had shot Collier to death right outside this very building. The ghastly sight of the bullets tearing through his mentor’s body was burned forever into Shawn’s memory. Who is shooting at us now? he worried. The Nova Group again? But I thought I was their primary target, along with Isabelle?

  “Everybody stay in their rooms until further notice,” Richard ordered, taking charge. Shawn was impressed by his cool head in the crisis. “I’m sure our security personnel already have the situation in hand, but everyone should stay put just in case.”

  His words seemed to calm the other residents, who retreated back into their quarters. Shawn followed Richard down the stairs toward the executive offices on the second floor. He gulped as he realized that neither of them was armed. Would Richard’s telekinetic abilities be enough to defend them if they came under attack? Last he’d heard, Isabelle’s father could only levitate a few small objects at a time.

  To his relief, a team of uniformed security guards had already located the origin of the disturbance: Rahmen Aziz’s office. Horrifying details hit Shawn one after another. The blood-smeared door. The bullet hole through the splintered wood. Aziz lying across the threshold of the office, bleeding to death . . .

  “Oh my God!” Richard exclaimed beside him. “What happened here?”

  Shawn didn’t wait for an explanation. He knew what he had to do. Rushing to Aziz’s side, he knelt down by the injured lawyer. A crimson puddle spread out from beneath Aziz, soaking into the carpet. “Give me room!” Shawn ordered the guards, who stepped back to let him work. He placed his palms against Aziz’s bleeding torso. The hot stickiness of the blood made him gag, but he didn’t withdraw his hands; two-plus years as a professional healer had given him a pretty strong stomach. Mustering his strength, he closed his eyes in concentration. His healing ability had failed to save Jordan Collier from his gunshot wounds, but maybe he could still save Aziz if he moved fast enough.

  A phantom pain stabbed him in the abdomen. Only one wound, he sensed. Good. That gives me a chance. He let his own life force flow into the lawyer’s body, amplifying Aziz’s ordinary healing factors to the nth degree. Contrary to popular opinion, he didn’t actually suck out people’s injuries or ailments; he just infused them with the strength to heal themselves . . . at great cost to his own endurance. A grimace contorted his face, and his limbs trembled, as he poured his youthful vigor into the dying man. Mercifully, the bullet had already passed through Aziz’s body so there was no need to expel it. Shawn only had to hold on while the damaged bones and tissues knitted themselves back together. He opened his eyes to keep a close watch on his patient. Blood stopped flowing from the shrinking hole in the lawyer’s gut. The color began to return to Aziz’s face. His ragged breathing grew stronger and steadier. He’s going to make it, Shawn realized. Thank God!

  Breathing heavily, Shawn lifted his hands and leaned back onto his ankles. He felt as though he had just run a marathon, but he couldn’t complain; he knew he had just saved the other man’s life. Aziz reached out and squeezed Shawn’s bloody hand. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Forgive me for plotting against you. We were wrong to seek your death.”

  Huh?

  Shawn took a moment to recover before turning his attention back to the ongoing crisis. Richard emerged from the violated office, shaking his head. Shawn recalled that, up until recently, the office had belonged to the late Matthew Ross. Now Aziz had nearly died there as well. It’s almost like there’s a curse over the place.

  “We found another casualty,” Richard reported. “Simone Tanaka. She’s alive, but in no condition to talk right away.” He glanced back at the office. “No trace of the shooter. Looks like he got away.” He conferred briefly with the security guards. “No indications of forced entry, either. Could be an inside job.”

  One of us? Shawn looked accusingly at Aziz. “What happened here? What were you saying about a plot?” A theory popped into his brain. “Did Simone shoot you? Did you have some sort of falling-out?”

  “No,” the lawyer whispered weakly. Although no longer at death’s door, he was still pretty shaken up. “Not Simone. Gorinsky.”

  The guy Uncle Tommy electrocuted? Now Shawn was really confused. “I thought he was dead.”

  Before Aziz could explain, Shawn heard footsteps racing toward them. Please don’t be Isabelle, he prayed, before looking up to see his uncle and Diana Skouris rushing onto the scene. “NTAC!” Tom said, holding up his badge. The guards hesitated, unsure whether to let the government agents through, but Shawn signaled that it was okay. The agents’ eyes quickly took in the gruesome scene.

  “Good Lord,” Diana said. “What’s happened here?”

  Simone Tanaka’s file had listed The 4400 Center as her permanent address. Tom had driven straight here, rendezvousing with Diana right out front. He had hoped to interrogate Simone regarding her connection to William Gorinsky; instead they found themselves arriving at a crime scene.

  “Boy, am I glad to see you,” Shawn greeted them. Fresh blood splattered his hands; staggering to his feet, he wiped them off on his bathrobe. Tom’s gaze shifted from his nephew to Rahmen Aziz, whose shirt front was also soaked in blood. He guessed that Shawn had just performed one of his trademark healings. Had someone attacked Aziz?

  Simone? Tom speculated. “Want to fill us in?”

  Shawn quickly brought them up-to-date, while Richard Tyler confirmed the particulars. Tom and Diana exchanged a startled look when they heard that Simone Tanaka had also been victimized—by Gorinsky, reportedly. The supposedly dead veteran had beaten them to the punch again. What’s it going to take to stop him, Tom thought. He keeps turning up like a bad penny.

  “You folks got here pretty quickly,” Shawn commented.

  “We were already on the way,” Tom explained. “To see Simone.”

  “She’s still in pretty rough shape,” Richard said, gesturing toward the office behind him. Shawn started to head toward the door, but Richard restrained him. “I don’t think it’s life-threatening, Shawn. You can take it easy for a minute.”

  “You sure?” Shawn asked. His gait was a little unsteady, as though healing Aziz had taken a lot out of him, but he looked ready to heal the other casualty without hesitation. Tom was impressed by his dedication to his calling. “Maybe I should check on her anyway.”

  “Shawn!” Isabelle suddenly appeared at the other end of the corridor, wearing a violet silk kimono. Her brown eyes widened in alarm as she spotted the crimson stains on his robe. Tom didn’t miss the look of dismay on Shawn’s face as his imperious girlfriend arrived on the scene. “You’re hurt!”

  As she rushed toward the crime scene, a pair of guards foolishly attempted to block her approach. “Back off!” she warned them as, with a wave of her hand, she flung both of them away from her with a casual display of telekinesis. The guards smacked against the walls on either side of the oncoming woman, but not too hard; neither was knocked unconscious. Tom figured they had gotten off lucky. By her standards, Isabelle h
ad been positively restrained.

  What was it the future had called her again? A terrible evil? Tom wondered again if he had made a mistake not to kill her when he’d had the chance.

  “I’m all right, Isabelle!” Shawn said wearily. “It’s not my blood.”

  “Oh.” Looking around, she swiftly put the pieces together. “What’s going on?”

  “Everything is under control, Isabelle,” Richard informed his daughter. “This is none of your concern. Please return to our rooms.”

  Isabelle was taken aback by his suggestion. “But . . . what if you need me?”

  “NTAC is here. Our security forces are doing their job. The criminal has fled the building.” Richard addressed her firmly; Tom watched carefully to see how the precocious superwoman reacted. “The most helpful thing you can do right now is go back upstairs and let us handle this. I’ll be with you shortly.”

  Isabelle still resisted the idea. “Shawn?” She looked to her reluctant boyfriend, as though hoping he would overrule her father.

  No such luck.

  “Just do what your dad says,” Shawn told Isabelle, taking Richard’s side. “We’ve got all the help we need right now.”

  This was not what Isabelle wanted to hear. Her expression soured. Expecting fireworks, Tom’s hand drifted stealthily toward his handgun, just in case. Too bad I left that damned hypo at home, he thought; according to an emissary from the future, the syringe contained the only weapon that would stop Isabelle for good. She opened her mouth to protest her exclusion, but then, apparently thinking better of it, bit down on her lower lip. Much to Tom’s surprise, she spun around and stalked off without another word. Everyone present let out a collective sigh of relief.

  Guess we dodged that bullet, Tom thought. For now.

  Diana looked grateful to get back to the business at hand. “So, where were we again?”

  “Talk to Aziz,” Shawn suggested. “He seems to know what’s going on.”

  The lawyer had achieved a sitting position, his back up against a wall. Tom and Diana crouched down in front of him. “All right, Aziz. Talk. Who did this to you . . . and why?”

  Aziz was a lot less self-assured than he’d been in Nina’s office two days ago. Apparently being shot in the stomach had put the fear of God into him. “Gorinsky. He turned on us, attacked Simone, then me. I’m not sure why.”

  “Where is he now?” Tom asked.

  “I don’t know, I swear it.” He kept fingering his bloody stomach, as though he still couldn’t entirely believe that the bullet wound was gone. “He fled with DeMeers. Took him prisoner.”

  “Cooper?” Diana’s ears perked up. “What does he want with Cooper?”

  Aziz shook his head. “I wish I knew. He betrayed us all . . . said something about getting revenge on the future.” His sweaty face went pale as an appalling thought struck home. “Dear God, what have I done? What if I’ve brought about the very disaster I sought to avert?” He clutched Diana’s arm. “You! Your daughter is the one who foresaw this. You know what’s at stake. You have to stop him!”

  “Who do you mean?” Diana asked. “Cooper or Gorinsky?”

  “I’m not sure,” Aziz confessed. “But none of us are safe while Cooper is in the hands of that madman. You have to get him back.” Guilt was written all over his face. His voice took on a defensive tone. “I swear, I never intended any of this. I was just trying to protect another 4400!”

  Tom guessed that the lawyer wasn’t telling them the full truth, but there would be time enough to pick apart his story later. Right now he tended to agree with Aziz: finding Cooper DeMeers was their first priority.

  Which meant finding out why William Gorinsky was still walking the earth.

  “Go home, Isabelle. Get out of our way, Isabelle.”

  The nerve of them . . . just who do they think I am?

  Isabelle fumed silently as she changed out of the kimono in the quarters she shared with her father. The suite wasn’t quite as luxurious as Shawn’s, but it certainly beat the rustic log cabin where she’d lived with her parents when she was just a toddler. Those days were long over, however, so why did her father still treat her like a child?

  She stared at her reflection in the mirror over her dresser, seeing a full-grown woman with a distinctly pissed-off expression. She didn’t know whom she was more angry at, her father for dismissing her like that, or Shawn for not standing up for her. What was the good of having a boyfriend—aside from the sex, that is—if you couldn’t count on him to back you up?

  Maybe Dennis Ryland at Haspelcorp was right all along and none of the 4400 could be trusted. Isabelle didn’t want to think that was so, particularly where Shawn and her dad were concerned, but they seemed determined to drive her away, no matter how hard she tried to prove herself. The eyes in the mirror took on a coldly calculating glint.

  That could be a serious mistake on their part.

  The mirror shattered as she angrily blasted the glass into pieces.

  SEVENTEEN

  “BUT HOW CAN Gorinsky’s doppelganger still be alive?” Diana asked. “In theory, his physical body, brain and all, is dead and rotting now.” She made a mental note to see about having the veteran’s body exhumed just to be certain he was really dead. “Where’s he getting his energy from?”

  “Good question.” Marco’s voice emanated from the speakerphone on Aziz’s desk. Diana, Tom, Shawn, and Richard were all gathered around the desk, while the Center’s security guards escorted Simone and Aziz, in handcuffs, down to the Center’s infirmary. Marco himself was still back at Diana’s apartment, babysitting Maia. “The only explanation I can come up with is that Gorinsky’s double is somehow drawing on someone else’s life force.”

  “He can do that?” Tom asked.

  “Possibly,” Marco said. “The literature of parapsychology is filled with accounts of psychic vampirism, where one individual leeches energy from another. There’s been entire books written on the subject. And we’ve witnessed similar phenomena since the 4400 returned. Look at the way Isabelle Tyler’s accelerated growth drained years from her mother’s life. Lily Tyler aged fifty years the same night that Isabelle went from a toddler to an adult in one fell swoop.”

  Diana glanced uncomfortably at Richard; apparently Marco didn’t realize that Lily’s grieving husband was in the room with them. His wife had died of old age shortly after Isabelle’s transformation. Richard winced slightly at Marco’s glib reference to the tragedy, but otherwise maintained a stoic demeanor. Diana sympathized with his loss; Lily Tyler had been a beautiful and caring woman. If only her daughter took after her more . . .

  “So who is Gorinsky sponging off?” Tom wondered aloud. “Is there any way to find out?”

  Diana suddenly remembered the special bond that Philip Gorinsky claimed to have shared with his twin brother. “What about Phil? He insisted that there was a connection between them. Whom else would his brother’s disembodied spirit gravitate to? Maybe Gorinsky latched on to his twin’s body and is draining Phil’s life force, cerebral energy, or whatever to sustain himself? Just like Isabelle and her mother.”

  “That’s it!” Tom said, his face growing more animated. “I saw Phil at Gorinsky’s funeral and he looked like death warmed over. At the time, I chalked it up to grief over his brother’s death, but I bet that Gorinsky was already feeding off him.” He looked disgusted at the thought of the old man being exploited like that. “It’s probably been going on since Gorinsky flat lined at Abendson.”

  “Makes sense to me,” Diana agreed. “At least as much as any of this does.” She leaned toward the speakerphone. “Thanks, Marco. I think we can take it from here.”

  “Okay,” Marco said, sounding exhausted. She felt sorry for waking him after already keeping him up all night. “Good luck . . . hang on a second.” Diana heard Maia’s voice in the background. “Maia’s up. She wants to talk to you. She says it’s urgent.”

  Uh-oh, Diana thought. This doesn’t sound good. She waited apprehe
nsively while Marco passed the phone to her daughter. “Maia? What is it, honey? Is something wrong?”

  “Mommy?” Maia sounded wide awake . . . and worried. “It’s time.”

  Diana recognized the spooky certainty in her daughter’s voice. It was the same tone Maia used whenever she delivered one of her oracular pronouncements. Even after two years, moments like this sent a shiver down Diana’s spine. “Time for what?”

  “It’s time for you to go to the mountain.”

  Diana’s heart sank. She knew what this meant: Rainier was about to wake up. I guess we know where Gorinsky is taking Cooper, she thought despairingly. Right back to where this all began.

  “Mount Rainier?” Diana asked, even though she already knew the answer. Tom, Richard, and Shawn all looked equally chagrined by Maia’s latest prophecy. Diana’s brain swiftly worked out the logistics. The mountain was approximately three hours away by car. Gorinsky had a head start on them, but if they hurried they might still be able to catch up with him. Maybe we can commandeer a helicopter?

  “Yes,” Maia confirmed. “I just saw you there. Again.”

  Only for a moment did Diana consider defying the girl’s prediction and staying away from Rainier. Her course was clear. Fate and duty both compelled her to pursue Gorinsky and to try to stop Cooper from blowing up the whole mountain. “Where on Rainier, honey? It’s a big place.”

  “There’s a bridge—a high, scary one—over a river, with rocks and rapids way below. The bridge is swinging back and forth, like it’s going to come apart any minute. You’re on the bridge, Mommy, way up high over the rocks.” Maia’s eyes were wide with fear. “If you fall . . . !”

  “I won’t fall, honey,” Diana promised. “But what kind of bridge. Like for cars?”

  Maia shook her head. “No, it’s for people. A rope bridge, like at the playground, but longer and higher. It wobbles when you walk on it.”