Echoes (6 page)

"Ash, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to do that! You startled me so bad – it was a reflex," Sammy blurted out as she bent over me, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"That's a hell of a reflex."

Nami sat in the corner, laughing at me.

"Are those tears? Is the huge baby crying because a girl hit him? What a pussy."

"At least I can ride everything at the amusement park, Nadia." Letting go of my nose and not seeing any blood, I turned back to Samantha. "Don't worry about it. I deserve more than that for getting you into this mess."

Sitting back on the bed, she looked at me with distrust on her face. "How is this possible?"

That was a question I had often asked myself. Years of drowning the voices in alcohol and wallowing in depression never gave me an answer either.

"I wish I knew. It started after I was hurt. The impact must have jarred something loose in my head."

"That's why you've kept to yourself for so long?" she asked.

"It was the only way to keep myself sane."

Sharing this with someone made me feel completely exposed. All of a sudden the entire world seemed to know too much about me.

The sympathy on Samantha’s face changed to worry. The poor girl had gone through the entire gamut of emotions in the past two minutes.

"Do you always know what I'm thinking?"

"No, I'm in control of it now. You can feel safe around me – I'm not a monster."

Her body language indicated that she was dropping her guard a little bit at a time.

"Ash, I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry. This is all so… far-fetched. I don't even believe in ghosts."

"We can discuss all of this later. First, we need to get you as far away from here as possible."

"You don't think I'm safe here?"

"I don't trust this Smith guy at all. He was way too forthcoming with information. Something isn't sitting right with me."

"Then why are you helping them? We should both get out of here!"

"What if he's telling the truth? I couldn't live with myself if something terrible happened and I could have helped stop it. That's the only reason I'm playing along for now."

"When you girls are done kissing, you need to see this," Nami said.

She moved over to the bistro table and positioned the laptop so we could see the screen as we huddled around it.

"The local news station is saying that your apartment blew from a gas leak."

"Hundreds of people must have seen those armed men. How can that be the story?"

"It gets worse: they're calling it arson. You and your little girlfriend here are the primary suspects. There are warrants out for your arrest."

This didn't make any sense. How could some guys shoot a bazooka into my house? And now I was being sought for arson? Why would Sammy be a suspect too?

"The police are after me?" Sammy asked.

"You guys are having a shitty day," Nami said.

"Is there any mention of the men who stormed the building at all?" I asked.

"They're saying that the police raided the building, but you escaped. That's it."

Murdock must have known he hadn't killed me. He was trying to stack the deck in his favor by getting the cops after us.

"I've never done anything illegal in my life," Sammy said as she slumped into a chair.

"The news story, is it based on a police report?" I asked Nami.

"Yeah, looks like a Detective Johnson issued a statement explaining everything." I could see her trying to put the pieces to together. "You think this Murdock dude got to him?"

"I can't even bring myself to pirate a song off the internet," Sammy said.

"It's the only thing that makes sense. He changed tactics when he found out I escaped. Why chase us around the city when he can have the police do it for him? That's what I would do."

Sammy bolted up. "Why don't we just turn ourselves in and tell them what really happened?"

"Jesus, you're a real rocket scientist, aren't you?" Nami said.

"He wants the police to arrest us. If we're locked in a cell we're as good as dead. Killing us would be like shooting fish in a barrel at that point," I said. "It looks like staying here might be the best thing for you after all. If you leave and the cops find you, it's game over."

Nami clicked away at her computer. "Looks like CNN just picked up on the story. You guys are in deep shit."

"CNN? My mom is going to kill me!"

Murdock was trying to take me out of the equation. Smith seemed to be right about that. But why was he after Sammy? Did he hope she would be captured so he could use her as bait? He had me backed into a corner. I had to help Smith take him out.

The ride from the hotel gave me some time to think. The hits kept coming at a rapid fire pace, so I needed a little time to process everything.

Smith had called and said there was a cab waiting outside for me. It would take me to the Mt. Olivet Cemetery in Washington D.C., which was only a few miles away. During my drug induced stupor they had taken us all the way from Baltimore to a crappy hotel off of Route 50.

Why they thought Murdock would be at a cemetery hadn't been explained to me. After getting an assurance from Sammy that she wouldn't call anyone or leave the room, I took a radio earpiece from Nami and left in the cab.

So much information had been dumped on me that I was still trying to sort it. Smith said that when I got close to another telepath that I would be aware of their presence. Who knew what that meant?

Murdock's mind control capability made me nervous as hell. Judging by the footage I watched, he could make people do anything he wanted.  Did that apply to me as well? Whether or not my own abilities would protect me was the big mystery. Either Smith really didn't know, or he wasn't telling me what would happen.

Smith also concerned me. Why did he tell Sammy and me so much classified information? When I was in the Army I only had a secret level clearance, which is the equivalent of having an asshole: everyone has one. There is no way we were cleared to hear everything he told us. This was an atypical situation, but it still seemed way out of bounds for a man who ran an unnamed spy agency.

Nami was the other wild card. All of Smith's tech heads had been killed, so he needed some help, but Nami seemed an odd choice. She knew nothing about the operation before today, and was too young to have any extensive experience in espionage. Smith seemed too calculated to pick someone at random, so what was her role in this? It could be her lack of access to classified information that made him pick her. After all, having a telepath around a person with privileged information isn't a good idea. Even so, something bothered me about her involvement.

Dealing with the police was a problem I didn't want to think about for the time being. After taking care of Murdock I hoped Smith would be able to clear up that mess. Poor Sammy seemed more distraught over having the cops after her than knowing someone could read and control her mind.

She was so sweet and kind, I hated seeing her in this position. No one deserved anything like this, let alone someone who had never even downloaded a song illegally.

The cab stopped in the parking lot of Dave's Automotive Services, where two mechanics in oil stained coveralls pushed a tan Buick into the garage. The cemetery, visible on the other side of the shop, had dark, rain heavy clouds drifting behind it.

Though it was nice to have a few minutes of downtime, I was glad to be out of the car. I don't know what a coked up prostitute smelled like, but if I had to guess I would say it's similar to the back seat of that taxi.

"Where exactly do I need to go?" I had to push the button on my earpiece so Smith and Nami could hear me.

"Walk south-west and look for a burial service," Smith said. A slight amount of static distorted his voice.

"Whose service is it?"

"One of our agents’."

"An agent that Murdock killed? One of the telepaths?"

"Affirmative."

"Why would he go to a funeral for someone he murdered?"

"That information is classified."

If he didn't have a problem revealing all the other information to me, why draw the line here? The desire to sprint in the opposite direction almost made me turn around, but I had to do this for Sammy if nothing else.

The further I walked, the more nervous I became. I needed to keep talking.

"Are there any other paranormal abilities that I don't know about? Like telekinesis?"

"Negative. There has never been any evidence as to the existence of psychokinesis."

"That isn't very comforting, considering you didn't know mind control was possible before three days ago."

His non-response told me to shut up, but I couldn't help myself.

"What's the deal with him spouting nursery rhymes when he kills people?"

"We don't know. That is under investigation."

"Maybe he's just crazy," Nami said.

Three or four hundred yards into the cemetery I spotted the funeral. There were at least twenty people standing in a circle around the grave. My heart beat so fast I thought it might burst from my chest. I found myself hunching over, almost sneaking from headstone to headstone, and forced my back to straighten out as I got closer.

Then I felt him. It felt as if a tunnel had appeared in my mind, pushing all of the other thoughts out of the way. His fury was pure and complete. It enveloped me. Caught off-guard, I staggered sideways, clutching at a large stone cross to steady myself. The power of his mind was unbelievable. I stood still for several moments, waiting for him to take control of me. Nothing happened.

A clap of thunder made me flinch. I was wound too tight for espionage.

Who are you?
he bellowed inside my head.

I didn't bother to answer; he was Smith's problem now. The group of people were still too far out for me to tell which person he might be.

I put my finger to my ear. "Smith, he's here. I don't know which one he is, but he's at the grave site."

"Roger that, E.T.A. two minutes. Ms. Williams, continue to survey the civilians with the sat feed. Watch for unusual behavior."

Even though I knew they had to keep everyone far away from Murdock to avoid detection, two minutes was an eternity when a mind controlling psychopath is less than a hundred yards from you. I didn't plan on waiting around to see who won. His voice came booming back as I turned to leave.

Smith sent you.
It wasn't a question.
Who are you? I took care of all the freaks being trampled under Smith's feet.

Relief set in as I realized he couldn't read my mind at all, let alone control it. I wasn't able to see his thoughts either, despite this odd connection we had. I could feel his emotions, which were almost overwhelming, but couldn't focus on specific thoughts or memories. It seemed that Smith's guess had been correct: telepaths weren't susceptible to Murdock.

You should have come for me yourself instead of sending those losers with the rocket launcher. Looks like using the cops didn't work out either. Payback's a bitch.