[Ganzfield 2] Adversary (26 page)

Isaiah looked up. He’d felt something strange in the room.
Crap.
I focused on my shield, keeping my gaze on the buffet table, as he scanned the crowd.

He looked so…
ordinary
. I’d expected his outward appearance to be more fearsome—to reflect his ability in some noticeable way. His short, grey hair receded at the temples. He had the wiry, forcibly-trim look of a man who kept himself physically fit in spite of getting older. Angular face. Straight nose. Strong chin. Ice-blue eyes that seemed to take in all of the details of the scene before him. He wore a white oxford shirt and khakis. Preppy. There was a very good chance that I was about to be killed by a man wearing loafers. Which part of that sentence was most wrong?
No, no, no. Stop it.
Focus!
I tried to slow my breathing and keep the panic from flooding my mind.  

At the far end of the room, near the window, the group that had gathered around Isaiah used the grand piano as a place to rest their little plates. They all shared a burst of laughter that caught the envious attention of the other clusters of people around them. It was clear where the center of power was.

Fifty feet from him—still more than halfway across the great room. I’d never blasted someone’s mind from this far. I didn’t think I could. I moved around another group of people, drawing nearer to Isaiah.

The distant sound of gunshots didn’t register over the crowd noise. The relay came to me through Isaiah’s mind as two security people outside opened fire on someone.

My heart seemed to stop beating.
Oh, my God.
Who were they shooting at? Probably someone I knew. I couldn’t tell. The double distortion through other people’s thoughts turned the distant targets into sinister-looking monster-people. Isaiah was distracted, listening to the confusion outside.
Now! This was my chance.
I started to close the distance directly. I’d blast him as soon as I got close enough.

“Everyone freeze!” Isaiah’s voice conveyed both authority and charm resonance. The people around me instantly became silent, living statues.

No! I’m not close enough yet!
I desperately felt for the area of his mind that’d sent out the command—
there!
I sent a blast of energy into it, just like I’d done with Zack in the backyard. But this time, I pushed, hard, trying to fill it with killing force. I shook as I felt the searing in his mind, the blaze of energy that I’d sent into him. The language center of his brain flared brightly, and then burned itself into a dark cinder.

More!
I tried to expand the damage, move it through the rest of his mind, but I wasn’t close enough. Only the use of his new charming ability had made the tenuous connection possible from here. Now I lost the focus and the connection melted away.

Half a second later, I realized my mistake.

I hadn’t frozen.

I was immune to his charming ability so I was still moving.

And now he knew who I was.

Ah, hell.
He wouldn’t even have to walk around the room, listening to each mind up close, as he’d originally intended. My heart hammered in my chest as our eyes met for a moment of mutual shock—we both recognized our determination to see the other dead.

Isaiah silently launched a powerful killing blast directly at my mind. It hit my mental shield like a spray of dark acid and I gasped. I could feel it weakening, corroding under his continued onslaught. I forced my shaking legs to run forward. I had to get close enough to blast him before he broke through my shield.

I was in trouble. It was taking all of my mental energy to maintain my foundering shield. I couldn’t draw away enough focus to attack.
Crap, crap, crap!
If I struck out again with my ability, I’d just give him a clear conduit to focus into my mind. My breath came in panicky little pants. This was bad. I felt Isaiah start to break through in pinpoints. He now could hear some of my thoughts. He recognized a flash of Trevor, the telekinetic he’d wanted to capture—
to vivisect.
He’d wanted to give himself that telekinetic ability, as well. He still did.

A sob caught in my throat.
No!

Isaiah wasn’t shielding. He simply attacked so powerfully that I couldn’t counter him, like a champion boxer who hits hard enough that his opponent never gets a chance to land a blow in return. He pierced my shield again, mirroring the same focus point I had when I’d burned his mind.

I don’t know what this’ll do, but I bet it’s something bad.

I felt a dark spot blossom in my mind, like spilled ink soaking into a towel.

He attacked again, stabbing his mental energy like a dagger into my consciousness. Something else went loose in my brain and my left leg gave out. I could still feel it, but I couldn’t control it. The wooden floor seemed to rush up to meet me. I landed hard, catching most of it in my left wrist. A cracking pain shot up my arm, but the overwhelming torrent in my head drowned out the sound of my scream.

I couldn’t stop—I had to do this. I tried to crawl closer. With every passing second, my shield grew weaker. Around me, the living statue people watched with silent revulsion as I inched along the floor, dragging one leg and pulling myself forward with my arms.

Monster!

—might be able to throw fire like the ones who attacked us up north—

—I can’t move! What did she do—

Kill her!

The edges of my vision started to blacken, forming a tunnel until all I could see was Isaiah. He was striding toward me now, grim-faced and determined, still attacking my shield.

Oh, my God.
I was about to die.

Isaiah knew it, too. He smiled maliciously as he planned how he was going to spin this to the observing crowd. What charmed words would he use? It wouldn’t take much.
You all saw her try to kill me. She’s a perfect example of how dangerous these people are.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t gloat. He just came closer. Oily black killing energy seeped into my mind, stronger with every step. The parquet floor pressed cold and hard against my cheek. I was no longer moving, and everything was fading, spinning away, and Isaiah seemed to be flying as I left the world and the blackness closed over me. 

CHAPTER 12

Dead.

I floated in the blackness.

Weightless.

The silence cocooned around me. I was alone in the dark.

Oh, no.

Trevor.

I’d never hear his mind again. I felt so empty without him, as though my soul had been ripped in two. The best parts of me seemed to’ve torn loose, leaving me adrift with my loneliness, my insecurities, and my pain.
My soul.

Wait.

I was still self-aware.
I think, therefore I am. Right?
I still existed, somehow.

I heard a drumbeat, slow and steady. It took me a long time to realize it was a heartbeat, and even longer to realize recognize the heartbeat as my own.

That’s a surprise. Cool.

Light filtered red through my heavy eyelids. My whole body felt leaden, as though gravity was pulling on me extra hard now, making up for all that earlier floating.

I opened my eyes, squinting against the morning light. The sky seemed overcast outside my window, but it was still too bright. I lay on my side in bed. I was in my own room. Everything seemed so normal. All I could hear were the sounds of a few cars in the distance and the gentle patter of light rain.

Silence.

There were no thoughts in my head except my own. Had everything I’d experienced just been a dream? Hell, could all of Ganzfield been a dream? I drew a ragged breath and someone moved behind me, startling me.

“Maddie?” Trevor’s voice was hoarse. I tried to move, but my body didn’t want to obey me. Turning my head felt difficult and strange. An IV line in the back of my hand pinched with an itchy tightness as I shifted.

“Maddie!” Trevor’s hands stroked my face and hair with tender desperation. He touched me as though he needed to convince himself that I was real. I tried to give him a smile.

Trevor looked terrible. Stubble darkened his grey-tinged cheeks and the inky smudges under his eyes were billboards of insomnia. I knew how he must feel; it’d been the same for me when he’d been unconscious after we’d gotten him out of Eden Imaging.

Unconscious.

I must’ve been unconscious.

I couldn’t hear his thoughts. That made me feel even more isolated and alone.
Trevor,
I thought into the silence.
Trevor?
I didn’t hear his mind and he didn’t react. My ability was gone. Had Isaiah burned it out? Those last minutes flooded back into my memory. How was I still alive? “Luff.”

Trevor’s brow furrowed in confusion.

So did mine.
What was that?
I tried to say Trevor’s name again.

“Luff,” once again came out of my mouth.

I watched something pass over Trevor’s features. It was as though the new and fragile hope was pulled out of him with cold fingers. His face crumpled with pain. One of his hands left my face as he cradled his own forehead like he was trying to keep it from exploding.

Brain damage
. Oh, my God in Heaven.
Broca’s area. I’d burned out Isaiah’s, and then he’d done the same to me. I remembered the inky sensation as part of my consciousness had been blotted out. What else had he done to my mind? The thought started my whole body quivering.

No.

I needed to figure this out—assess myself. My thoughts felt clear enough in my head. I knew the words and I knew what I wanted to say. It just wasn’t coming out of my mouth right. What was that called? I knew the term.

Expressive aphasia.

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t use telepathy. A sense of claustrophobia rose within me.

Trapped.

I was trapped inside my own body, alone, without a way to communicate. “Ock.”

Crap!
I couldn’t even get a good four-letter word out. If there ever was an appropriate time to use profanity…

Wait.

I had one more thing to try. I struggled to sit up. I felt so weak! My left leg felt funny—watery—but at least I could move it again.
Thank you, Matilda and Hannah
. I’d take a moment to appreciate that later. I pulled open the little drawer in my nightstand and rummaged for a pen. What could I…there! I grabbed the pad of post-its that I’d used for bookmarks.

My hand shook but the words looked legible enough to me. I gave them a second reading, just to be sure.

Brain damage.

What if what I’d written was nonsense, too? Would I be able to tell? Did Broca’s aphasia affect writing? Did I actually have aphasia or was it something different, something the medical community didn’t even have a name for?

Maddie Dunn’s disease.

It wasn’t like there was a lot in the medical journals on telepathic damage, after all.

I reached for one of Trevor’s hands. I could tell he was in terrible emotional pain, which made my heart ache—but I couldn’t feel it. The world seemed colorless and numb to me. And Trevor, even though he was right here next to me, seemed far away.

I held up the post-it. It took a moment for his eyes to focus. I watched as the written words registered and the dashed hope returned, rekindling the life within him. His eyes met mine, searching for me within. I reached out and cradled his cheek with my hand, feeling the sandpaper stubble against my fingers. He took a few deep breaths, rubbing his free hand across his face. A little color seemed to return, washing away some of the grey cast from his skin.