Brain Storm (A Taylor Morrison Novel Book 1) (33 page)

He was warning me again, but about what? I was way too tired to play this game. My mind searched for some sense in what he was saying and finally landed on the truth. Hughes could sense my emotions. Maybe not feel them like Mac, but he felt something. If Mac could hear me talking to him when I focused on him, it was just possible that Hughes could too. Now that was a sobering thought. He could be out there right now, driving around, listening for me.
 

Mama D and Candice had packed up pretty much everything before we’d gotten back from our trip up the mountain. Now we threw the last of it into a box, grabbed the packs and loaded up. The plan had been to leave first thing in the morning, but considering the revelations of the evening, we all would sleep better, if we ever actually got to bed, with some distance between us and Hughes. At the very least, I knew I would.

We’d pulled out of the motel onto an empty road, but by the second intersection, we’d met up with traffic. Within minutes, we slid into the flow, just one more vehicle in a line of cars heading down the canyon to the cities below. I watched the RV as it disappeared around a curve, several car lengths ahead and sank into the bucket seat, feeling safer and less exposed with each passing mile. Tomorrow we would re-group and figure out what to do next. It was with the knowledge that for now, we’d done all we could, that I closed my eyes and let the escape of sleep take me.

THIRTY

I WOKE WITH a start, unsure of where I was, the sunlight casting a ruby glow through the room. The memory of last night flooded back and I flopped back into the pillows as I was reminded of the problems we now faced. How had I been so naive? How had I been so foolish as to think I was ready to go up against them? Glancing at the clock, I rolled out of bed and headed for the shower. The fact that it was nearly noon and no one had come to wake me told me volumes. I half expected to walk out of the room to find the others had chosen the wiser road and hightailed it out of town. I spent more time in the shower than was necessary, letting the hot water pound the aches from a body that was too out of shape to spend the night running up and down a mountain, much less lying in a bunch of bushes for an hour in the cold.

 
I discovered evidence of our fast descent down the mountain in my hair, in the shape of bits of leaves and twigs, and found myself laughing at the thought of what it must have looked like. Thank goodness I hadn’t looked in the mirror, but the others had gotten a front seat view. I had, I was certain, looked like exactly what I was. A deranged lunatic, trying desperately to hang on to some shred of sanity.
 

My laughter dissolved quickly though, as I stood in the stream of cascading water, and faced the facts. It looked like Hughes could sense me and if he was able to pick up on my emotions too, it cut the odds greatly of being able to turn the tables on him. One wrong move, or worse, one unguarded emotion and he’d be on the alert. I had nearly made the mistake of going into a gun battle, assuming I was the only one with a gun. It shouldn’t have surprised me to discover that not only was the other side armed. They were better shots.
 

 
I cut the water and ran my hands over my head, squeezing the water from what was left of my hair, disgusted with myself. I needed to keep my distance from Hughes, that much was certain. I wasn’t sure what all he could do, but if he had actually sensed me last night, he might have picked up on my emotion too. Anger, plain and simple. The minute he’d hopped out of the Hummer, I’d felt it flare up. Whether he knew it was me or had just picked up on the emotion flowing around him, he knew something was up and if he had half a brain, he’d be on the alert. I could practically guarantee he wasn’t going to leave the safety of the facility now. More likely he’d stay put and wait to see what happened next.

 
A knock on the bathroom door snapped me out of my reverie and I jerked a towel off the rack just as the door opened.

“You coming out of there anytime soon, or are you planning on drowning yourself?”
 

Candice’s head appeared around the curtain and she squinted at me through one eye.

“At least your hair looks better. Hurry up - food’s here.” She snapped the curtain back and the door slammed shut before I’d even said a word. Apparently they hadn’t decided to take off after all. I dried off and pulled back the curtain to find the bathroom swirling with steam, the mirror completely obscured. I wiped off a small circle of moisture only to watch it steam back up within seconds and knew I was facing a losing battle.
 

Frustrated, I grabbed up the hair dryer and proceeded to dry my hair without the benefit of being able to see what I was doing. Abandoning the brush, I felt my way with my fingers, trying to remember what went where in my new cut. I was halfway through when it hit me. There was another way to try to find Brown. One that didn’t involve Hughes. It probably wouldn’t work, but at least we had something else to try. My mood considerably lighter, I gave up on the dryer, deciding to let it air dry. However it ended up looking, it had to be better than what it looked like last night. I pulled on the clean jeans and sweater I’d brought in with me, finding them somewhat damp from the steam. I ran my hands through my hair one more time, feeling more confident by the minute, and pulled open the door, finally ready to face the world.

I came out of the bathroom to find everyone stuffed into my room, two steaming pizzas on the table, such as it was. They’d been talking amongst themselves until I came out and then everyone clammed up. Suddenly famished, I wound past them and picked up a couple slices of pizza, throwing them on a plate and made myself comfortable on the bed, suspecting they’d been talking about me and deciding to just ignore them.

“So what’s the plan?” Candice demanded to know, just as I took my first bite of pizza. She waited impatiently as I grabbed the cheese that was stringing back to my plate and pulled it loose, popping it in my mouth.

“What makes you think I have a plan?” I asked, back on my way for a second bite.
 

“Well, that would be Mac, the human barometer,” Bryan said, slapping Mac on the back hard enough to stagger him. “You may keep your emotions bottled up inside, but they slide right across his face like film on a screen. It’s pretty easy, now that we know what to look for.”

I kept chewing, cocking a brow in Mac’s direction. Mr. Calm, Cool and Collected had no problem keeping his own emotions in check, but apparently, mine were an entirely different matter. Thinking of my reaction to being invaded with Brown’s emotions the other night, I couldn’t blame him, but it was good to know. Something we’d definitely need to work on in the future.

“That’s right, Samantha.” I leaned over to look around Bryan, who was efficiently blocking Mama D from view. They’d set her up at the desk and she was happily munching away. “We knew when you woke up from the way Mac kept shaking his head.”

“I have kind of a constant background buzz in my head when you’re awake,” he explained, twirling his finger around in a circle above his ear. “Takes a few minutes for me to get used to it.”

I finished off the rest of my slice and started picking apart the second piece while I let that one rattle around in my head. If what he was saying was true, he was pretty much always aware of me. Bummer for him.

“Is there a limit as to how far away you can pick me up?” I asked, pulling off a chunk of sausage and popping it in my mouth.

“I don’t know. It didn’t used to work this way before you became active. Now that you are, we’ve been in pretty close proximity for the most part.” He flipped open a box and grabbed a handful of slices.
 

“You feel it with anyone else? Any of these guys?” I bobbed my head in the general direction of the room, while playing with a mushroom that was hanging half off the crust.

“No. Just with you.”
 

“Hughes or Brown, maybe?”
 

“Noo...”’ He drew it out, pausing in his eating to look at me.

“Hmm. Interesting.” I decided to quit playing with the pizza and picked it up to finish it off.
 

“Oh, for Pete’s sake! Quit it, you two. Sam, do you have a new plan or not?”

The others had been watching the back and forth between me and Mac, bouncing their attention between us like they were watching a tennis match. Candice had reached the end of her limited amount of patience, which was practically non-existent in the first place.
 

“No. The plan is still the same. The goal is to find Brown.” I dropped my plate onto the side table and dusted off my hands. “We just have to go about it differently now. Try and avoid Hughes, if at all possible.”

“And just how do you propose to do that? Hughes is the only one who knows where Brown is.”

“Wrong. There is one other person who might be able to tell us,” Bryan said. He got up to throw his plate in the garbage, and threw me a knowing smile over his shoulder. He was catching on fast.

IT TOOK SOME doing, but we managed to convince Candice to stay behind with Mama D at the hotel. In the end, Bryan had had to promise to phone in on a regular basis and that we wouldn’t do anything without her.

Now, with me ensconced in the back seat of the Mustang and Bryan outfitted with detailed maps of the area, we were headed back to the section of the highway where I had picked up on what I assumed to be Brown, hoping I could do it again. I was doing my best to try to relax, but I’d be lying if I said it was easy. I wanted to find Brown, but I didn’t want to go through what I’d felt the other night a second time. On the other hand, if this didn’t work, we’d have to resort to our last option and there was a really good reason it was our last option. Turning myself over to Hughes and hoping he’d take me to Brown had so many risks involved, I tried not to think about it.

I flopped over onto the back seat, such as it was, and closed my eyes, not wanting our surroundings to influence me. Mac had told me to try to keep my mind clear and see if I felt anything.
 

As I laid there listening to the sound of the road passing under the tires, I did feel something. Stupid. A lot like when I was sitting at my dining room table trying to move Grandma’s spoons. What a debacle that had been. Almost as bad as when Candice had shown up with her test kit that night. When she’d opened that bag and pulled out tha...

“Stop!” I yelled, jerking up. Pain radiated through my head, blinding me, and I felt my stomach begin to pitch and roll. “Let me out! Let me out!”

Mac slid to a stop and Bryan barely got the door open before I was past him, running to the shoulder, violently ill. Mac was there in an instant, supporting me and dragging me back to the car when I regained some control.

He was talking, but I couldn’t hear him, the noise and pain in my head drowning out everything else. I grabbed my head and slid down the side of the car into the dirt, trying desperately to escape the pain.
 

“Sam!” Mac grabbed my face, forcing me to look at him. “Talk to him. Talk to him! Tell him to stop it. Tell him to back off!”

I understood finally what he wanted me to do, but I couldn’t do it. Thoughts wouldn’t form. My head was about to explode, my vision growing dark at the edges, when suddenly it stopped.

I collapsed against Mac, who was there, holding me tight. Bryan next to us, blocking us from the view of passing traffic.

“We need to get her back in the car,” he said to Mac, keeping an eye on the passing traffic. “Sam, can you stand up?”
 

I didn’t even bother to answer, concentrating instead on trying to gain my feet. Mac helped lift me up enough for me to collapse partway into the back of the car. Then he ran around to the driver’s side, flipping the seat up, to reach in and pull me the rest of the way over, as Bryan folded my legs in and then flung himself into the front seat, slamming the door.

“Oh man,” he rasped out when Mac got back in behind the wheel. “I thought she was going to die. Was that him? Was that Brown?”

Mac shrugged, visibly shaken and leaned over to look back at me. “You okay?”

“No,” I said, relieved to find I could still form words. I laid there, crammed into the small back seat, trying to gather my wits and get my shakes under control. Bryan passed me a bottle of water. It was still cool and I held it to my face, hoping to get the nausea under control. After a few minutes, the dizziness and nausea passed, leaving me feeling weak and exhausted, but steady enough to sit up.
 

Bryan rolled down the window and cool fresh air filled the interior, helping considerably to clear my head.
 

“Was this what is was like the other night?” Bryan asked, looking at Mac.

“Different.” Mac met my eyes in the rear view mirror as he answered. “This was pain. The other night was terror. Fear. But it was as strong.”

“He’s dialed it back. Low buzz like a fly?” I asked Mac, who quietly nodded confirmation. “Okay then. Let’s take the next exit. And let’s go slow. I don’t want a repeat of that.”

Mac did take the next exit and immediately pulled into a McDonald’s. He got in line while I washed up. I beat him back to the car and Bryan got out to help me back in. I was still a little shaky, but feeling better by the minute and able to think again.

Before long, I was settled in the back, armed with a huge Diet Coke and a large bag of fries. Mac had gotten some for himself and Bryan as well and we sat there in car, silently munching away. I reminded myself that the incident had been nearly as traumatic for them, as it had been for me. We all needed to recoup a little.