Mindsurge (Mindspeak Book 3) Read online

  I glanced behind me to Alyson, Jack, and Briana. Jack nodded encouragement. “Before you decide to turn your back on us, we need to show you one more thing.”

  She stared at me a few seconds, then sank back down into the leather chair.

  Jack and Briana stepped up to the table. “The reason I know so much about the experiments being done on the island is because Jack, Briana, and I are just a few examples of what these doctors are capable of creating. We have… supernatural abilities that these doctors want to reproduce—even if it means killing one hundred times the number of humans in the process, including small children.”

  “Supernatural abilities?” she repeated. “Like flying? Running faster than a speeding bullet?” She laughed, but I could tell she didn’t really mean it.

  “Our abilities are more of the mind control and medical healing kind.”

  It was time to bring out the big guns.

  Ms. Meyers, please tell me something highly sensitive the president is planning right now that the public doesn’t know about.

  Ms. Meyers cocked her head. “The president has invited Palestinian-Israeli leaders to a summit to take place at Camp David next week.”

  “Interesting.” And the press hasn’t gotten wind of this?

  “No. It’s very important that no one knows these leaders are coming to the United States, for fear of the conflicts that could arise.”

  I released her mind. Her eyes grew to the size of silver dollars. She covered her mouth as if she could take back what just spewed from it. “Why did I just say that? I could lose my job.”

  “For the same reason the FBI and Secret Service agents exited earlier. Because I asked.”

  She stared at me, dumbfounded.

  I turned to Briana. “Bree, can you please demonstrate your ability to Ms. Meyers?”

  Briana stepped up beside me, then morphed into a replica of me.

  Ms. Meyers’s chest rose and fell in quick succession. I could hear her shallow breaths.

  “Briana can make anyone think they’re seeing something that they’re not. We both have the ability to manipulate the minds of others. We try not to use these powers to do harm, but, as I’m sure you can imagine, not everyone would use these abilities for good.”

  I had one more demonstration. “Jack.”

  I only had to say his name, and he was by my side. He handed me a knife, and Briana laid a white towel on the table, beneath where I held my hand. I took the knife and, without hesitation, drove the sharp point of the blade into my hand, slicing directly across the palm. I suppressed a wince from the biting pain.

  I lifted my hand so Ms. Meyers could see the wound; blood dripped down my arm and onto the towel. Ms. Meyers could only stare open-mouthed.

  Jack lifted two fingers and followed the line of the cut, healing the wound as he went.

  “Oh my God,” Ms. Meyers whispered. “You just healed her cut.”

  “Our abilities go way beyond what we’ve just demonstrated. And in many ways, we’re still just learning. These abilities—or at least the healing ability—may appear at first to be a force for good. But the cost to human life is just too great. We can’t let these doctors create more like us. We can’t let them treat innocent human beings as unwilling test subjects. And we can’t let someone with such obvious ethical deficiencies be in control of such powers. Can you imagine if our abilities reached the wrong people at high levels within our government? Or our enemies’ governments?”

  Jack spoke for the first time. “And the public can’t know about these abilities. It’s a Pandora’s box. Other scientists of dubious ethics—financed by those with a thirst for power—would be drawn to try to repeat these experiments. Once the secret is out, there’s no way to ever contain this kind of research again. Genetic manipulation will become the world’s next WMD.”

  “Further, a large part of the population would demand that we heal everybody of everything,” I added. “And we wouldn’t be able to. There would be too many.” My voice cracked with emotion. A part of me wished there was a way to end pain and suffering, but that’s just not the way of this world.

  Ms. Meyers leaned back in her chair and let out a large breath. “I just don’t know.” Her smiles from earlier had faded. Her cheeks appeared heavy.

  I sat beside her again, on the very edge of my seat. My leg bobbed rapidly. I placed a hand on hers. She took it away and tucked it in her lap.

  Jack touched my shoulder. He knew what I was thinking—that this was the first time an outside person had been repulsed or frightened by something I’d demonstrated.

  “And all you want is to purchase this little island?” Ms. Meyers said at last.

  “That, and I want the chance to stop these doctors and scientists from murdering more embryos and cloning humans.” And from ever murdering or controlling the mind of another.

  A grin touched her lips, but not her eyes.

  “And you think you can use your powers to stop them?”

  “Yes.” I have to. “And do you see why I asked everyone else to leave? This isn’t something we can risk leaking.”

  “Why not just find a quiet corner of the world to hide in? We can help you disappear. The military can stop this operation.” She was attempting to understand us. “We have a wonderful witness protection program. If you have money to purchase this island, you have the money to disappear. Why risk your life?”

  “That’s a lovely offer, Ms. Meyers, but no thank you. The woman behind this is responsible for taking away almost everything I’ve cared about in my life, including my father and my best friend. And she’s doing unspeakable things to human beings. I will stop her.”

  Ms. Meyers seemed to consider this. “What do you need from me?”

  “Besides ownership of the island? I’m not one-hundred-percent sure what we need quite yet, except that we’ll need someone ready to take in the guilty once we’ve discovered them.”

  “And how do I know you won’t just be taking over the performance of the same experiments?”

  “I will personally invite you to visit the laboratory once we’ve taken over and secured the facility.”

  “Why should I trust you to take over this facility? No offense, but you’re just a kid.”

  That was a great question. I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do once I had in my possession this tropical island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, let alone the responsibility of a lab I knew very little about—other than that I didn’t want its experiments to continue.

  “She won’t be alone,” Seth said. The fatherly tone in his voice struck me. “We’ve already assembled a team to take over the lab.”

  We have?

  Jack linked his pinky finger with mine. Just go with it.

  “Take over? But I thought you said the lab was doing illegal and immoral experiments on humans.”

  “They are,” I said, “but someone has to find a humane way of dealing with the aftermath. My only goals are to make sure the innocent are protected.” I swallowed hard. “Once we remove the doctors responsible, someone will still have to see to it that the humans created within this lab survive the best they can—that they’ll be given the best shot possible at a normal life.”

  “And you’re capable of that job?”

  I closed my eyes for a brief moment before meeting her gaze again. “Yes. I have to be.”

  Chapter Twenty

  I woke to loud banging on my door. When the door opened a little and the stack of puzzle boxes tumbled to the ground, my heart raced at triple speed. Every muscle along my spine tightened.

  “Lexi, wake up,” Seth yelled through the crack in the door.

  My shoulders slumped forward. The relief was quickly replaced with anxiety as to why Seth was breaking into my room in the middle of the night. I stumbled out of bed and over to the door, then moved the fallen boxes out of the way with my feet and pulled the chair back. “What’s wrong? Is it Jack?”

  “Yes. And Georgia. Get dressed.”r />
  The clock glowed 3:00 a.m. I swallowed against the swell of emotions forming in my throat as I searched for clothes. “Tell me what’s happened.”

  Seth turned his back to me while I quickly slipped into a pair of jeans and changed into my favorite green sweater. “Fred called. Said Georgia had a massive attack. Jack went to help, and is now throwing up. He can’t stop.”

  I shoved my phone into my back pocket and rushed past Seth and out the door, pulling my hair back into a loose ponytail. As we jogged down the hallway, I looked at my phone. No missed calls. Why hadn’t Jack called me? I had fallen asleep right after dinner last night around eight o’clock. Jack had agreed to return to his own room and get a good night’s sleep if I promised to lock up and booby trap my door again. “Where are they?”

  “They’re inside The Program.”

  “Here?”

  “No, on campus.” As if I needed further explanation, he added, “At the UK Hospital.”

  ~~~~~

  Jack was sitting on the floor, one foot bent at the knee, the other stretched out in front of him, and leaning against the wall. His arm was draped across a toilet seat, and his head was pointed toward the ceiling, eyes closed.

  Fred paced. “I don’t know what happened. They told me not to call you, but…”

  “Jack told you not to call me?” I knelt beside Jack and placed my palm against his forehead. He was clammy. His hair was wet, I presumed from sweat. “Did he say why?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know what Jack wants me to tell you.”

  A queasy feeling erupted in my stomach at the thought that Jack was keeping things from me again.

  I’m not keeping things from you, Jack mindspoke. I wanted you to get sleep. I thought I could take care of whatever this was.

  I studied his face. He didn’t move. Are you okay? Tell me how you’re feeling. I could be mad at him later.

  I feel like a thousand monkeys are dancing in my head, throwing my equilibrium off.

  What happened?

  Is Georgia okay? he asked, ignoring my question.

  I glanced to the other side of the room. Seth was inserting an IV into Georgia’s arm. He made eye contact with me and shrugged. Fred looked on while wringing his hands at his sides.

  Seth’s working on it. Tell me what happened.

  Georgia thought she saw you. She mindspoke to me. Said you told her that Sandra had trapped you and inserted a tracker into the back of your neck. You were scared, but you wanted the tracker removed. Georgia panicked and brought you down here to try and remove it. She said that when you screamed bloody murder at the first movement of the tracker, she tried to stop, but you forced her to keep going and to cut a small incision into the back of your neck. I realized that it wasn’t you but Maya, but by the time Georgia reached out to me, the damage had been done.

  Where is Maya now?

  She was here when I got here. She was bleeding from the neck and crying, and Georgia was having the worst epileptic attack I’ve ever seen. I tried to heal Maya’s wound, but then I started throwing up and couldn’t stop.

  Why did you try to heal her? She deserved what she got.

  It was strange. She asked me to, and I couldn’t say no. She looked so pitiful, and all I could see when I looked at her was you.

  I rose and crossed the room in search of supplies. After finding some paper towels and wetting them, I returned to Jack and began patting his forehead down with the cool moisture. You’re going to be okay.

  The room won’t stop spinning. My head is throbbing. I don’t understand it. Lately I’ve been suffering less when I’ve healed. But this is the worst I’ve ever felt.

  And you say you’ve never seen Georgia have such a strong attack?

  Never.

  This reeked of Sandra’s mind games. She was somehow using Maya to make the consequences of our powers worse. But how?

  “Is he going to be okay?” Fred asked, and I nodded. “That girl who looks like you—Maya—we thought she was you at first. She said Jonas was taken. Was she lying to us, or was that true?”

  “It’s true.” I stood. “But we’re going to get him back. I promise. We will find him.”

  Worry swam in his eyes and in the trenches along his forehead. “Maya also said that Sandra took him to a lab far away.”

  “We don’t know if that’s true, but we’ll find him,” I repeated. I hadn’t heard from Jonas in a while. I prayed Sandra didn’t hurt another person I loved because of me.

  Georgia coughed, bringing me out of my thoughts. Her eyes remained closed.

  “She’s not slipping into a coma, so there’s that,” Seth said.

  “Can I do something that will make her feel better faster?”

  “No. Can’t chance another of you getting too sick to function.”

  Seth opened a cabinet over the sink and began sorting through some pill bottles there. He removed the cap on one of them and shook a pill out into his hand. “Here.” He handed me small pink pill. “See if you can get Jack to swallow this.”

  I found a small Dixie cup and filled it with water. Back by Jack’s side, I placed a hand on his back. “I’ve got a pill for you to take. Seth says it will help.”

  Jack leaned forward, took the pill in his mouth, and took a slow drink of water. He swallowed like it was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

  “Can I help you get into a bed?”

  No. Maybe in a minute. Can’t move yet.

  “Okay.” I went to the bed and grabbed the blanket and pillow. I fluffed the pillow and gently placed it behind his head, then covered him with the blanket. I leaned into his ear and whispered, “I’ll be back soon.”

  Before I could stand, he snaked his hand around my wrist and squeezed. Where are you going?

  “I’m going to find Maya. She’s going to help us get into the Palmyra lab whether she likes it or not.”

  He didn’t even try to argue with me. He just whispered, “Lexi, before Maya left she told me…” He swallowed hard.

  “What? What did she tell you?”

  “She said, ‘Sandra hopes you enjoy your gift.’”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I didn’t know what Maya meant by “gift,” but so far, Sandra’s presents had gotten exponentially worse.

  The emergency room at the UK Hospital was bustling with people waiting to be seen. Perspiration bubbled along my forehead, and heat flared on the back of my neck after running the three blocks from The Program at a full sprint. I stood just inside the door, unsure where to look for Maya, or if she was even there. Since neither Maya nor Addison was capable of healing wounds (that I knew of) I figured she’d have to go to a medical facility to stitch up the cut from the botched tracker removal attempt.

  Someone bumped me from behind. I turned as a man led a young boy past me while holding what appeared to be a hand towel to the back of the boy’s head. Blood colored the tan cloth a mixture of dark and light red. The sterile smells of iodine and alcohol from the hospital mixed with the coppery smell of blood.

  The man approached the triage desk. The woman behind it lifted her head. She had to have seen the blood coming from the little boy’s wound, but her bored facial expression remained constant. She handed him a clipboard. “Fill this out. A doctor will see you shortly.”

  His hands full and his look desperate, the man just stood there, dumbfounded.

  I rushed over and took the clipboard. “Let me help.” I didn’t have time for this, but I couldn’t consciously stand there and watch this little boy lose so much blood.

  “Thank you,” the man said. “My son… he fell… thank you.” The man didn’t look much older than Jack. A few years, maybe.

  He led me to a set of chairs. As he did, I quickly tried to diagnose the boy, unbeknownst to the worried father. I first looked inside his skull for any damage or internal bleeding. When I found none, I examined the wound from the inside out. It was a simple gash on the back of his head, but because of the location of the injury, it was
bleeding heavily.

  “Daddy, I’m dizzy,” the boy said.

  “I know, champ. We’re gonna getcha fixed up as soon as we can.”

  “What’s your name?” I asked the small boy. He looked to be no more than four or five years old.

  “Henry,” he said softly.

  This was more the level of injury for Jack to heal, but I was certain I could close the gash without feeling ill thanks to all the training Jonas and I had done. “The doctors here will get you fixed up, Henry.”

  He looked up at me with big blue eyes, once again reminding me of Jack and how I needed to find Maya and Addison.

  As we sat, I lifted my fingers to touch the cloth. “May I? I need to describe the wound for the doctors.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

  The man was slow to answer, but then nodded.

  I carefully pulled the cloth away and studied the cut from the outside this time. It was deep. Thankfully, the boy’s dad was on the opposite side from me and didn’t have the angle I did. I concentrated hard. Slowly, the separated pieces of skin moved closer until the wound closed and the bleeding stopped. I pushed the cloth back against the boy’s healed wound.

  I was relieved to find that my head ached only slightly from the process. The side effects from using my abilities had definitely lessened recently. “Just keep pressure on it,” I instructed the father. “Let’s get the paperwork filled out quickly.”

  “Are you a nurse? You’re so young.”

  “No, but both of my parents are doctors, and I’ve seen lots of injuries in my lifetime.” That seemed to appease him.

  I began asking him a series of questions—name of patient, name of parent or guardian, address, social security number. As he answered each question, I made mental note of the doors where patients were being admitted. After he’d answered the basic questions, I described the wound for the triage nurse. I knew the kid no longer needed to be seen, but I didn’t need to draw any more attention to myself. Hopefully, I’d be long gone before anyone discovered the “miracle.”