[Ganzfield 2] Adversary (22 page)

My mom’s opinion of Trevor went up a notch. “It’s after nine already. What can you do tonight?”

“We’re going to take Zack to the airport, just as soon as we get the ticket.”

*   *   *

Back in the kitchen, I handed the box of earplugs to Trevor. Neither one of us wanted me to talk with Zack alone. How damaged was his larynx? Could he still charm people? How angry was he with us right now? And just how dangerous was he?

Trevor molded two of the silicone plugs over the earphones of my iPod, sealing them into his ears. Then he cranked up the volume, and a classic Green Day song played through his mind to me.

Testing one two three…
”Can you hear me?” I said loudly.

He didn’t respond.

Did you hear me?
I asked into his mind.

No. I think this’ll work. Let’s get it over with.

At the top of the stairs, I knocked on the guest room door. There was no answer, but I could feel his presence within. I pushed the door open. Trevor stood behind me, his hand on my shoulder.

“Zack.” He huddled in the dark on the edge of the bed, his face in his hands. At the sound of my voice, a stream of ugly mental profanity bombarded me. “You’re leaving. Where you go is up to you. If you want to go back to Oregon, we’ll get you a plane ticket, but you’re not spending one more night in this house.”

“Am I out of Ganzfield?” His injured voice was a low, hoarse whisper.

So much had to happen before that was even an issue. Would we be able to neutralize the threats from the Sons of Adam and Isaiah? When, if ever, would Dr. Williamson get out? Would having him in custody blow our secret existence out into the open? What would the government do with us if they knew about our abilities? Would Ganzfield even exist anymore?

A sad ache filled me. I just wanted to go back to Ganzfield, for the place to be as it was. It hadn’t been perfect, but it’d been home.

“I don’t know.” That was the truth, although I had a pretty good idea. “That’s up to Dr. Williamson—when he gets back.”

If he gets back.

Zack turned to face me. I flinched back and braced as though he was about to attack. Trevor stepped closer. He’d been trying to follow the conversation through our mental connection, but the music had made it hard for him to concentrate. His eyes zeroed in on Zack’s mouth, watching for him to speak. I felt the light touch of his invisible fingers against my ears, ready to shut out any sudden charm commands.

“So there’s a chance I can go back.” A pale sliver of hope brightened Zack’s thoughts.

I nodded, frowning at the idea.
Hope—
Zack wanted to go back. If he believed he still had a decent shot of keeping his ability and returning to Ganzfield, would he behave himself? The chances were definitely better than if we sent him out as a rogue charm with nothing left to lose. Hey, maybe Cecelia wouldn’t even have to charm him into obedience.

“Probably a pretty good chance.” As soon as I said it, I knew it was almost certainly true. If it were possible that Zack could learn to silently project charm commands—which I suspected was Dr. Williamson’s hope—he’d want him back. That meant we hadn’t seen the last of Zack.

“I want to stay and do this thing on Saturday. You need me.”

“No way. We can’t trust you.”

“It’s my shield, isn’t it?”

“You tried to charm me!”

“So? Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?”

“Not to me!” I said, too loudly. Trevor’s hand on my shoulder tightened in concern. “Not to any of us!”

The attack in the van flashed through my mind again, filling my gut with a clammy lump—linked memories of people trying to force themselves on me. I felt a flare of killing energy stir within me and I swallowed hard against it. I had to keep myself under control.

Zack changed tactics. His shield dropped—melting away—and his mind seemed to suddenly pop into the room. I usually felt people’s minds increase in volume gradually as we came closer to each other. His hit me like a blaring stereo-blast.

Trevor’s mental fingers sealed my ears.
What did he do to you?
He accused Zack with steel in his stare.

I’m okay. He just dropped his shield. It startled me.

Trevor let up on my ears, but remained in alert-protection mode behind me. I turned back to Zack and focused.
Why did you do it?
I asked directly into his head.

So clear! He was as loud as another minder and his unspoken response poured out his motivations—the things that drove him. Zack really, really liked to win. He wasn’t evil. He wasn’t sadistic. My ability to get through his shield had deflated him. He’d thought he’d win some of his lost self-esteem back if he could use his ability to make me do something. He hadn’t planned to take it beyond a kiss, which would have been enough to restore his ego. Now he realized that he’d crossed a line with me and, after sitting up here in the dark, thinking he might lose his ability because of it, regret seeped bitterly through him.

I took a long, steadying breath, feeling calmer again.

Wait. Could he use his charm ability mentally? Was he fooling me right now? My eyes narrowed as I focused deeply on him.

No, it was okay. His thoughts were clear and open now. He wasn’t like Michael. He wasn’t like Del. He didn’t get a sadistic pleasure out of the fear and weakness of others. Zack was more like a kid cheating at a game so he could always win.
Impulsive. Immature.
But perhaps he’d grown up a little bit today.

There was no way he could remain here, though. The tension between Trevor and Zack would drive me over the edge if I had to be around it much longer. But maybe, if and when Ganzfield reopened, we could tolerate having him there. I wasn’t happy about it, but I suspected it would work out that way in the long run.

“Zack, go home. When Ganzfield reopens, I’m pretty certain Dr. Williamson will call you back…
if
you don’t do anything stupid in the mean time.”

Zack thought of arguing, but after a moment, he realized I wasn’t upset anymore. He considered that victory enough.

That bugged me. Had I given in somehow? Ah, hell. Let him feel like he’d won something, if it would keep him from doing anything overly harmful while he was still a dodecamine-filled, G-positive charm on the loose.

Just to be sure, I added, “Dr. Williamson interrogates charms when they come back after being away from Ganzfield to make sure they haven’t been doing…well…things like you tried tonight. Don’t do it, okay?”

“What are you going to tell Williamson?” He winced as the hoarseness in his voice made him sound more pathetic than he’d intended.

“I won’t tell him, I’ll show him. He’ll get the full, surround-sound experience in 3-D, complete with all the emotional highlights.” A small tremor started in my jaw at the memory.

Will it be bad enough to convince Dr. Williamson to kick me out?
Zack wondered.

“I can show you, too.” I sent him the full memory—including the sickening fear, the anger, the helplessness I’d felt. I recognized that my emotional reaction may have been overly-influenced by the previous attack, but that didn’t make the feelings any less real or terrifying.

Trevor’s hand tightened on my shoulder as he caught the show, too. I slid my fingers over his.

Zack turned white. His unfocused eyes widened as he looked within at what he’d done. When I finished, he sat there, breathing hard and shaking. He looked up and his pale face flushed red. “Oh, my God.” He’d had no idea of the impact of his actions—of how much he’d frightened and upset me. Evidently, empathy had never been a personal strength of his. “Maddie, I…I didn’t know. I—”

“You see now why you can’t stay?”

He nodded.

“Pack up. We’ll take you to the airport.”

*   *   *

It was a little after ten when we left in the van. Drew drove; Hannah took shotgun. Trevor and I sat in our usual spots in the front-most bench. He still had the earphones in, just in case.

Zack sat alone in the back.

A few minutes out, I felt his thoughts fade. I turned back to him. “Keep that shield down.”

Unshielded, Zack was a different person from the one I’d had around for the past few days. Loud. Full of conflicting emotions and ambition…and now shame. “Sorry.” His thoughts popped back vividly as he played back the memory I’d shown him…again.

Ugh.

I crossed my arms tightly and told myself to suck it up. I needed to keep my focus on his thoughts. We’d be there in a few minutes. A few, eternal minutes.

Zack’s guilt gnawed at me, making me feel too warm and nauseous. But at least he felt guilt. That was a good thing, right? A positive development in his life, making him into a better person and whatnot.

I just wished he’d do his soul-searching out of my range.

He drifted away a second time and I faced him again, seeing him silhouetted against the shine of headlights on the back window. “Keep it down.”

POP.
What was I, a masochist?

Huh…Zack had to concentrate on keeping his mind open—to keep from shielding. Was the mental block his natural state? Or, at least, what dodecamine did to him?

How unique and special. We’re all G-positive snowflakes.

We pulled up to the long, glass-fronted departure area of Newark Airport and Trevor rolled back the side door of the van. Zack pulled himself forward, lugging his duffel as though it’d doubled in weight. Hannah brusquely laid her hands on his throat, healing the damage Trevor had caused. She didn’t meet his eyes.

I handed Zack his flight printout and his gaze met mine for a second. A prickle of panic flashed down my spine, but I didn’t look away.

I’m really sorry,
he thought, his shield still down.

I nodded. “I know.” My anger was gone. I’d spent time over the past months looking for redemptive capacity in many of the charms of Ganzfield. I believed the sincerity of Zack’s apology.

I also knew that, if he wasn’t sincere, Trevor and I could make him feel sorry in one or two other ways.

Zack knew it, too.

He jumped back as invisible hands closed the van door, nearly slicing into him. Trevor’s unsmiling stare conveyed a final message as the van pulled away. Zack stood alone at the curbside, silently watching us leave.

We could all breathe deeply again, even though the air still smelled like New Jersey. Drew sighed and Hannah leaned back in her seat. Trevor took out the earphones, pressing both hands hard against his temples.

“Hannah? Could you do something about Trevor’s headache, please?”

Trevor looked up, surprised
. I don’t want to bother her with it.

If you won’t do it for yourself, then do it for me
. I gently stroked his hair back from his eyes.

Hannah placed her hands on either side of his face and concentrated. Healing energy crackled through him—doing who-knows-what to muscle tension and blood-flow—and the pain dissipated for both of us.

“Thanks,” Trevor and I said, simultaneously. I leaned against his shoulder.

Hannah watched us in the flashes of light coming off the highway. “You two have some kind of extra connection, don’t you?”

I tipped my head back to meet his eyes and we shared a little flicker of soulmating memory that made my heart skip. He smiled at me. “You could say that.”

“Like just then, you both reacted the same way, physiologically. I’ve seen you do that several times. It’s like you…I can’t really say. Like you’re extensions of each other.”

I hesitated; I didn’t know how much I wanted to share with her. My connection to Trevor was so personal, so intimate. It went beyond words.

“It’s like we were meant for each other. We’re each other’s other-half.” Trevor squeezed my hand.

Yeah. That’d do.

From the driver’s seat, Drew made a gagging noise. “Ugh. Cut the mushy talk or I’ll set something on fire just to change the subject.”

We all laughed, but I wasn’t entirely sure it was an empty threat. “Hannah, thanks for staying with us. I know you haven’t been happy at Ganzfield or with the team and our training and all, and…“ I wasn’t sure how to put it. “But you’re here. You stayed with us, and that means a lot.” I took a deep breath. “I don’t know what shape Matilda and Morris are going to be in on Saturday and I really hope none of the rest of us will need your help. But thanks. Thanks for staying. You’re a real life-saver in every sense of the word.”

Hannah smiled shyly, although her thoughts filled with a quiet fulfillment—a warm sense of being appreciated.

Drew rolled his eyes.
That’s still pretty mushy
.

*   *   *