Mindsiege Page 9

  Chapter Twelve

  “How did you turn out so amazing, when she’s so… so…” Jack raised his brow at me, mid-rant. “…So not amazing.”

  “Because she and I don’t share a single ounce of DNA?”

  “Smart aleck.”

  Though it felt like I’d been away from campus for weeks, I’d only missed one day of classes and four mornings of swim practice. I wanted to go for a swim right then, but Jack convinced me that getting back into our classes was more important.

  We walked toward the dorms. So far, no one even looked at us funny. It was as if Friday had never happened. To the other students, it probably hadn’t.

  “Remember, Cathy’s syringe and drug were not meant for you last Friday,” Jack reminded me.

  “But she didn’t tell me that. She tried to force me to heal Sandra even then. She held that syringe filled with God-knows-what like a murder weapon if I didn’t obey her.”

  “I know, but she promised the weapon was meant for Sandra. Sandra is her enemy, not you.”

  “Uh-huh. I just happen to look like Sandra.” And I just happen to be the one who can bring Sandra out of this coma that she put herself in.

  What do you mean she put herself in the coma? Jack asked. How do you know that?

  Seth told me she injected some sort of genetic manipulating substance into her own brain. I snapped my head toward him. “Wait. I didn’t direct that thought at you. I’ve been blocking you.”

  We were almost to the girls’ dormitory. Jack grabbed my arm and stopped me. “I don’t understand why you’re so insistent on blocking me completely, but sometimes your thoughts just slip through. I don’t know.”

  I averted my eyes, tried to pull away, but Jack tightened his grip. A couple of freshman girls stumbled out of the dorm, giggling as they walked passed us.

  “Lexi, look at me.”

  “What?” I sighed, finding his eyes. Did I really have to explain how I didn’t want him inside my head?

  “What is going on with you?”

  Silence built up between us like steam trapped in a teakettle. He continued to stare. “I don’t want to live like this. I live in constant fear of someone inside my head. Listening to my every thought. Manipulating my mind and my actions.” I sucked in a breath. “I have to find a way to shut you and anyone else out.”

  “You think I’m manipulating you?”

  I cocked my head and smiled. “I’m back at Wellington because of you, after vowing not to return.”

  “Hmmm. Good point.” His forehead wrinkled. “But you do see why Wellington is the place where we might find answers?”

  “No, but it’s a place we can live while we search.” Especially since the few people I knew outside this school were now dead.

  He rubbed his thumb across the back of my hand and started to lean toward me. I thought he was going to kiss me, but his grip tightened and his face scrunched up as he pulled back.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “It’s Jonas.”

  “What’s Jonas? Where?”

  “He’s inside your head.”

  I searched the edges of my mind for any sign of that tattooed jerk. “Why can’t I sense him? He’s said nothing.”

  But he’s there. I can sense him right now while I’m touching you. The question is: Can he sense me when I’m inside your head?

  I shivered, and Jack pulled me into a tight hug. This is why we’re at Wellington. He kissed the top of my head. Go get what you need. I’ll meet you in class.

  ~~~~~

  Mrs. McMillan frantically scribbled notes across the dry-erase board as I entered Advanced Biology. Danielle, my best friend and roommate, sat up straighter when she saw me. I immediately wanted to hug her, but I was late, and there wasn’t an empty seat near her.

  It was crazy to think that it had only been a few days since I’d seen Danielle. A long weekend, really.

  Kyle, who sat next to Danielle, lifted his chin in a silent hello. I had yet to discover if my roommate knew that Kyle was the one she sketched for the art show last Friday. She claimed she had met a mystery boy in her dreams and would marry him some day. Did she know Kyle was the one she “planned to marry”? She could definitely do worse, but could I let my best friend fall for a cloned freak?

  I forced a smile at them both before I slid into a seat across the room.

  “Today, class, we’re going to have a little quiz.”

  Shit! I slunk down in my seat just slightly. I’d fail a quiz for sure.

  Mrs. McMillan passed out the quizzes. When she got to my desk, she handed me two pages stapled together and said, “Welcome back, Miss Matthews. Do the best you can.”

  All I could do was stare blankly at the questions on material I hadn’t studied. I was sure most of it had been reviewed the previous day in my absence.

  Want my help?

  The muscles in my back stiffened at the sound of Jonas’s words. No, I don’t want or need your help.

  Really? You don’t think you need my help? Then I obviously didn’t explain the situation you’re in very well.

  I searched my head, and found Jonas’s presence sitting just on the edge. How can I see him so clearly at some times, but not so much at others? With everything in me, I wanted to knock him off that edge.

  I worked through the thirty questions. At least they were multiple-choice. I had a twenty-five percent chance of getting each one correct.

  And a seventy-five percent chance of getting each one wrong, Jonas said. Speaking of... The answer to number five is—

  Stop. I don’t want to know. I was not going to cheat on a stupid biology quiz.

  That was a nice trick last night, by the way. Instead of being angry, Jonas sounded impressed. I’m wondering if Kyle and Jack would have succeeded in getting you to leave if Jack hadn’t tranquilized me.

  I smiled. You kind of got what you deserved.

  Don’t sound so pleased, Lexi.

  Hey, you tranqed me first. I massaged my temples, irritated by the banter. What do you want from me, Jonas? My hand shook so badly, my pencil slipped through my fingers and fell on the floor.

  I want you to convince Jack that I mean you no harm, and that you both need me at Wellington.

  What? No way. Not going to happen.

  I could force you.

  If you could force me, you would have done so already.

  I want you to get up right now and take your test to Mrs. McMillan. Tell her to excuse you from the quiz and class. You’re failing it miserably. Force her to give you a chance to make up the quiz tomorrow.

  Without even thinking, I did as Jonas instructed, and my teacher fell for my mindspeaking, hook, line, and sinker.

  Once in the hallway, I dug through my bag for tissues, and treated a lovely nosebleed.

  Don’t you want to be rid of those nosebleeds?

  Of course I wanted to end all nosebleeds forever, but I was not going to admit that. Not if it meant conceding I needed Sandra. What I want is to know what you know about my dad and his murder.

  Ahhh, yes. Well, like I told you, your dad discovered the IIA’s human cloning project facility.

  How do you know this?

  I overheard a conversation. Your father trusted the wrong person with this information. He discovered The Farm, told someone, and the next thing I knew, he was murdered. Find out who he told. You’ll be closer to his murderer.

  Was Jonas right? Did one of Dad’s trusted friends murder him? Maybe not plant the bomb in his car, but set the events in motion.

  Jonas, I have one more question. I searched every corner of my brain. No sign of Jonas. Jonas! Great. Always there when I don’t want him, gone when I need him.

  The bell rang. Any second now, the hallway would be filled with students. Though I wanted to see my roommate, there were many students I didn’t want to talk to. Not now.

  I jogged to the girls’ bathroom. A face I barely recognized stared back at me from the mirror, complete with dark circles, pale
cheeks, eyebrows that needed plucking, and hair that needed washing. I was a mess.

  The door squeaked behind me. I turned to find my nemesis, Briana, staring at me. It always amazed me how she made a school uniform look attractive, sexy even. Her skirt was shorter than most. She wore a more fitted white blouse. It also helped that Briana spent more than the ten minutes I had on hair and makeup. Her long red hair curled into loose waves. Blush, eyeshadow, eyeliner, and gloss were applied just so.

  “Where the hell have you and Jack been?”

  Upon hearing her demeaning attitude, I imagined her eyeliner and mascara streaking down her face after I held her head in a toilet for a few seconds.

  “Why? Did you miss me?”

  “You? No,” she scoffed.

  Of course, she missed Jack. “We missed one day of school, Bree. What’s your problem?”

  She shifted on her feet and clutched a book she was holding close to her chest. “I need to talk to Jack. Where is he?” If I hadn’t known Bree so well, I could have sworn her eyes were starting to tear.

  I cocked my head, studied her, and thought of Dia. I wondered if Bree had similar mind trick capabilities. Did she know it? Jack, where are you? Bree’s got me cornered in the girl’s bathroom. She’s acting a little neurotic, and she’s looking for you.

  I’m checking on Addison. Tell her you’re getting ready to meet me at lunch and invite her to join us.

  Seriously?

  Yes.

  “Well, Bree, since you asked so nicely, and because we’re such great friends, I can tell you that Jack is meeting me for lunch. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”

  Bree turned on her heels and headed for the door. Before exiting, she turned back. “You need some mascara or something. You look like crap.”

  Wow, she’s a piece of work. A hot piece of work, but sheesh. Want to teach her a lesson? Jonas asked.

  No, I don’t. What did that mean, anyway? This didn’t sound like the same Jonas I had just spoken with. This Jonas scared me. Please get out of my head, Jonas. Bree left while I continued my silent argument with Jonas.

  No can do. I need you to do something for me.

  No.

  You don’t have a choice, Lexi. Do you remember how it felt to hold a knife above your head with its tip pointed at Jack? Can you imagine what it would have looked like if you had actually rammed it into his chest? The blood. The look in his eyes when he opened them and saw that the girl he loves was murdering him in his sleep.

  What do you want me to do? Even inside my head, my voice sounded small. This was definitely not the same Jonas who’d helped me evade IIA agents the previous night. I was starting to believe that it was, in fact, someone else invading my mind through Jonas’s. But the fact remained: I was seeing Jonas any time this person got inside my head.

  I want you to go to the infirmary, now, and tell no one where you’re going.

  Chapter Thirteen

  You got me here, now what? I asked Jonas as I stood in the basement of the infirmary.

  The walls around me were stark white, clinical. The new location of The Program looked like a surgical center, not a place for learning like I had expected. The Program was supposed to be a way for those of us at Wellington to challenge ourselves, to further our medical studies before we completed high school. No one had ever led me to believe The Program would be a crash course in how to use my brain to bring people back from near-death.

  The hallway was quiet. Each movement I made echoed off of the bare walls and tiled floor.

  Last door on the right. You know where we’re going.

  He was leading me to where we’d left Sandra and Addison on Friday night. I eased my way down the hallway. I heard no voices as I walked, only the sound of my own running shoes stepping lightly. My heartbeat quickened. I didn’t want to see Addison without Jack, and I didn’t want to see Sandra at all.

  I pushed the door open. Memories of Friday flooded back. Of freeing Jack from the drug that had left him unconscious. Of healing Addison’s brain injuries. Of Cathy, Seth, Dr. Wellington, and their mysterious intentions for me and The Program.

  I had fled Wellington and the overbearing forces of Cathy and The Program to keep from being used like a pawn in a chess match, yet here I was. And now I was being manipulated by a different force.

  I moved into the room slowly. Addison was gone from the bed she had lain in three days ago. Sandra still lay lifeless in a bed on the end, her brown hair tousled against the pillow. Her chest rose and fell slowly, the only outward indication that her heart continued to beat.

  The door closed behind me with an insignificant click that nevertheless thundered in my oversensitive mind. Only when I was completely in the room did I notice the woman sitting at a small desk. Her eyes were wide, and darted from me to Sandra and back. “Oh, my freaking goodness,” she said. She stood, took two steps, and fainted, hitting her head hard on a chair behind her as she fell.

  I ran to her side. “Crap!” I checked her head for blood. Nothing. Good.

  I laid her head back down gently and ran to one of the empty beds for a pillow. After placing it behind her head, I looked for a way to call for help.

  Make sure she doesn’t have a concussion. You know how.

  Jonas was right. I knew how. I examined her brain for signs of injury, but found nothing. I think she’s okay. She probably just fainted from seeing a replica of the woman lying in the hospital bed. I’d faint, too, if I thought it would help.

  Just leave her there.

  What? I can’t leave her.

  Yes, you can. Now pull a chair over and sit beside Sandra. We need to talk.

  I rolled a chair over and sat next to my genetic original, my back straight and stiff. My knee bounced up and down as I examined the facial features of the woman in front of me. It still unnerved me to see what I would like in about thirty years. Now what?

  I need you to show me Sandra’s brain. Show me what is keeping her in a coma.

  I ran my fingers along Sandra’s forehead and down her cheeks. The coma she was in masked the real Sandra. Her vulnerability overshadowed the personality my father told me about in his notes. I thought back to the email someone sent me—an email from Sandra to an agent with the IIA, which implicated Dad and Dr. DeWeese in her immoral and illegal schemes.

  Dad said she had sold her research to the IIA and even consulted with them. After visiting The Farm, I now knew that she more than advised the IIA. Much more.

  At Jonas’s insistence, I pictured Sandra’s brain. Immediately the colorful patterns of neurons firing came into view. The criss-crossing of axons—the paths between neurons—were shining like multi-colored glow necklaces found at amusement parks after dark. I honed in on the pooling of liquid at the base of the brain, where cerebral fluid had leaked. This was what was causing Sandra to remain unconscious. The amount of liquid accumulating looked even worse than I remembered from Friday.

  What do you see? Jonas asked.

  I gave Jonas my assessment. Seth said Sandra injected herself with some sort of genetic manipulating substance.

  The question is, What are we going to do about it?

  I thought my decision to do nothing was a good one, and assuming Jonas’s question was rhetorical, I decided he wasn’t expecting an answer. Besides, I wasn’t sure what would happen if I flushed this substance from Sandra’s head. The act of bringing her out of a coma could make me extremely ill. Or what if Jack was right? What if we didn’t know the consequences of my healing abilities yet? I certainly didn’t want to suffer a grand mal seizure like Georgia had.

  And it might not even work.

  Minutes passed. Jonas had fallen silent. I searched the corners of my mind for him. Having him in my head felt like a lingering illness—like the tail end of a flu where I was mostly better, but a dull ache still hung out along my temple.

  I yawned, barely able to keep my eyes open as I sat and waited for further instruction from the boy with control over me. I had b
arely slept the night before, thanks to the train-jumping.

  I rested my forehead against my folded arms on Sandra’s bed, thinking I’d just close my eyes for a few minutes, and hoping Jonas would move along and harass some other poor unsuspecting soul.

  “Lexi,” someone whispered in my ear.

  Moaning, I buried my face deeper into the bed. The scent of cigarette smoke reached my nostrils even as I inhaled the smell of detergent from the bed sheets. I didn’t want to wake up.

  The realization of where I was came crashing back. I raised my head. Sandra remained comatose a few inches from me. I swiveled around slowly in my chair to find Jonas sitting, his legs crossed, on top of the neighboring bed. A cigarette hung from one corner of his lips.

  “You can’t smoke in here.” My eyes circled the room. It was a stupid thing to say, but it was the first thought that entered my mind when I saw the person who was seizing my mind. My heart beat faster as panic set in and I remembered where I was. And now Jonas was actually in the room? I stood and backed away. The nurse remained on the floor by the desk. “How did you get in here?”

  “In where?”

  “Don’t be obtuse, Jonas. How did you get inside Wellington?”

  He cocked his head. The edges of his lips curled into a smirk. “I can get anywhere you are, Lexi.”

  I squeezed the bridge of my nose. “You’re in my dream.”

  “Not exactly.” He took a drag, then made smoke circles in the air. “This is my first lesson for you.”

  “Lesson?”

  “I need something from you, and I’m willing to pay for it.”

  I crossed my arms. “I’m listening.” Maybe we were finally getting to the root of Jonas’s irritating existence inside my head.

  “I need you to heal Sandra.”

  “No.” I stood up taller.

  Jonas smiled. “You haven’t even heard what I’m willing to give in return.”

  “Why would I help Sandra?” I could think of several reasons not to: Cathy wanted me to, Jonas wanted me to, and it would make me terribly sick. Healing Addison had landed me in the bed for two days. Not to mention, why would I fix this woman with a god complex who put herself into a coma by playing recklessly with her own scientific experiments? She knew no limits.