[Ganzfield 2] Adversary (33 page)

THE END OF BOOK TWO

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Coming in January 2011 from Spencer Hill Press

CHAPTER 1

Trevor and I had wanted to wait until dark to steal the car, but that would’ve been too late. As soon as the last of the dinner stragglers cleared the area around the old barn, Trevor telekinetically opened the large, double doors. We both winced as the old hinges creaked loudly. I listened telepathically for someone to notice the noise as I continued to shield our thoughts from the other minders.

The late-May, New Hampshire evening suddenly felt too warm, and the pinkish-gold cast of the protracted sunset made everything look like it’d been dipped in honey. The sun stayed up until nine this time of year, so it was later than it felt. Wiping my palm against my jeans, I tried to slow my heartbeat.

I cast a quick mental glance into the main building. Williamson was up on the third floor, his head filled with financial forecasts. I couldn’t feel Seth, but that meant nothing—his telepathic range was so large, he’d sense me long before I felt him. And the newest minder at Ganzfield was the last person I wanted to explain myself to tonight.

Trevor grabbed the keys for the grey sedan from the rack by the door. I slid across the driver’s seat to the passenger side, never letting go of his hand. In the three months since we’d returned to Ganzfield, we’d practiced this shared mental shield frequently. It’d saved our lives when Isaiah Lerner had tracked us to my mom’s place in New Jersey.

Trevor eased the car out of the barn. The long driveway looped in front of the main building and wound through the trees to the front gate. He turned on the headlights once we’d entered the gloom beyond the treeline.

Where do you think you’re going?

Crap—
Seth.
Trevor gave my hand a quick squeeze as a figure moved across the driveway in front of us. I focused on the shield, knowing that even Seth couldn’t get through it now.

Of all the lousy luck.

I’d been hoping that he’d be at the power station or the back gate, out of range. If anyone else had been on-duty here tonight, we could’ve bluffed our way out with a mention of “minder business.’”

Trevor rolled the car to a stop. The headlights illuminated Seth as he stood in the middle of the gravel drive—blocking our way. I glanced at Trevor, meeting his warm, chocolate-brown eyes. He gave my hand another reassuring squeeze as I bit my lip.
Maddie, I’ll talk to him. It’ll be okay.

Trevor slid the window down as Seth stepped into the shadowed space between the headlights. Shielding, I couldn’t broadcast thoughts to anyone other than Trevor. We’d have to talk aloud to Seth, just like normal people.

Actually, since I could no longer talk, Trevor would have to speak for both of us.

Seth’s annoyance came through loudly. Nothing kept out other people’s thoughts—except distance. I always heard what other people thought around me, even when I didn’t want to.

Seth’s appearance still didn’t match his mental presence for me. I’d never pictured him with this mane of red-gold hair. He kept it pulled back in a ponytail because he hadn’t had a haircut in years—having people in physical contact made them excruciatingly loud to him. It’d actually hurt Seth to get a haircut.

“Hey, Seth.” Trevor spoke just like everything was normal.

Seth’s thoughts flashed through all the things wrong with this situation. We were stealing a car and trying to sneak out. Beyond the walls of Ganzfield, Isaiah was killing G-positives like us—and I was almost certainly near the top of his killing “to-do” list, since I shared the same ability to lethally overload other people’s minds. After what’d happened in Jersey, he now knew who I was.

“Rachel said he was down near Atlanta this afternoon.” Trevor knew that Seth would understand who
he
was. “It’s safe.” Rachel could track Isaiah better than the other RVs could—we’d figured a way for me to share my memories of him to strengthen her remote viewing ability. Once she knew a person or object, she could locate them anywhere on the planet. I sometimes wondered how far into outer space she might be able to find things.

Isaiah’s not the only problem out there
.
The Sons of Adam—

“You know I’d never let anyone hurt Maddie, right?” Trevor interrupted him. “We need to do this. It’s important.”

What’s so important?

Trevor and I both flushed and I pulled the shield tighter. “Can’t tell you. We’ll be back soon.”

Let me ask Williamson—

Tell Seth to get out of the way right now or I’m dropping the shield,
I said to Trevor. We were busted—but we could still do what we needed to before dealing with Williamson.

“Seth, she’s going to drop the shield if you don’t stand back.” Trevor’s voice held a you-know-what-she’s-like tone. He didn’t enjoy being in the middle of our bickering, but Seth annoyed me like the older brother I’d never had—or wanted.

Seth’s shock splashed over me, tinged with annoyance and several really bad words. Dropping the shield wouldn’t physically injure him, but my minder-loud thoughts would hurt as though hell itself had set up shop between his ears. He quickly backed out of the car’s way. His accusatory mental presence followed us as we drove away, and dark-yellow guilt seeped through me.
Crap
—Seth had enough pain in his head without my adding to it. Sensing everyone’s final, terrified thoughts as they’d died in the massacre a few months ago had traumatized him.

We keyed in the code to open the front gate. It only took a few minutes to drive out to North Conway. I kept up a constant mental scan of the area, alert for ambushes, for people who hated us, or for traces of Isaiah’s mental presence. Once we entered town, the mental babble increased and I flitted from mind to mind, listening for those who wanted to harm us.

—think he’s cheating on me—

—MORE ketchup!

—sick of hearing about her boyfriend problems. She should just dump him and—

—kid whines one more time about the damn ketchup, I’m feeding him to the damn wolverines—

—this dress make me look fat? I feel—

—want to get home and have a beer—

—she looks kinda heavy in that dress—

Paranoid behavior? I wish. It’s not paranoia if people really
do
want to kill you.

We found the Rite-Aid, relieved that it was still open. Trevor wrapped invisible arms around us as I slid out of the driver’s door behind him. At five foot three, I could stand in front of him and not block his view. Someone might shoot at us from beyond my mental range so we had to be careful. The anxiety made our muscles hum with a twitchy, nervous energy as we walked together to the front door of the store.

At least we could do that now—my limp was finally gone. One of the strokes Isaiah had caused had damaged my motor cortex so I’d been through painfully boring physical therapy to re-train my brain to control my left leg. Williamson had paid the physical therapist double her rate and had Cecelia charm her to forget anything strange that she’d seen, particularly my less-than-traditional way of talking into people’s heads. We didn’t want other people to find out about all of the unusual stuff up at Ganzfield. If word got out that a bunch of teenagers with super-powers were training up here, it would be very bad.

Witch-hunt.

I felt Trevor’s hand on my shoulder, warm and reassuring, as we stepped into the overly-bright fluorescent light and scanned the signs at the ends of the aisles. The Rite-Aid was nearly empty—it was almost 9 p.m. and they’d be closing soon.

We found the right aisle: “Family Planning.” I looked at the various products, totally unsure which one we needed. Trevor had even less of a clue than I did. I finally grabbed a purple and white box and we silently headed up to the checkout.

The blue-aproned woman behind the counter was probably in her sixties, grandmotherly and stern with short, salt-and-pepper hair and narrow-lensed glasses. She looked at Trevor and me, two clearly-anxious teenagers, and then down at the sole item we were purchasing.

A home pregnancy test.

Her mind filled with the obvious conclusion and I felt my whole face flush crimson. She took the cash from my hand. I now had a credit card tied to my ridiculous new bank account, but I didn’t want a paper trail for this particular purchase.

The cashier looked critically at Trevor, internally debated saying anything, and then let it out. “I hope you plan to marry her.”

I closed my eyes and counted to ten slowly, trying to ignore this stranger’s unspoken assumptions. This was
so
not-her-business.

Trevor’s face was serious. “Absolutely.”

In a different situation, I know he would’ve laughed.

I held the little plastic shopping bag close as we headed to the car, checking again for people trying to kill us. Driving back, I felt a twitchy tension, like little wild birds under my skin. My hands opened and closed on the little box under the thin skin of plastic. The gate closed behind us.

You are SO busted.

I dropped my shield to yell at Seth, annoyed that he’d prudently gotten far enough away that my thoughts wouldn’t hurt him.
You are such a jerk! You know we wouldn’t leave Ganzfield if it wasn’t important!

What did you think was so impor—

I still had the pregnancy test in my hands, and now Seth could hear my thoughts.

What? HOLY—

Just SHUT UP! It’s not what you think.
I pushed up the shield again, feeling a painful sinking in my gut. There really was only one thing that he didn’t know now, but protecting that last secret was important.

*   *   *

Acknowledgements

I’d like to thank everyone who contributed to
Adversary
. Specifically—Mom & Olin, Beth Rosenheim, Heather Tessier, “Aunt Nancy” Schoeller, Peter Alton, Mitch Ross, and Alison Ross for their suggestions. Rich Storrs and Jessica Porteous deserve a special mention for their detailed feedback, which caught things I’d missed even after a dozen readings. Leah Sloan, for her character and her prayer. My editor, Deborah Britt-Hay and all the people at Spencer Hill Press. Jed Goldstone, for first introducing me to the celebration of Groundhog’s Day Eve. Jack Noon, for his 11th hour rescue of my manuscript from the clutches of its typos, as well as his expertise with firearms. Amy Fowler Rufo, Rosa Burtt, and Cassandra Hogle. And always—Taner, Aliya, and Logan.

Ve eşım Osman—seni seviyorum, canım.

Sen benim Trevor’sın. 

*   *   *

Praise for
Minder

“Absolutely flawless!” - Reading Teen

A Reading Teen “What to Read This Summer” Pick for 2010

“
Minder
is dynamic, original, thoughtful, and entrancing...nothing short of brilliant.” - Book Crazy

“Suspenseful, enchanting, and romantic,
Minder
is a great start to an exciting new series.” - Ellz Readz

“
It.
Some books have
it
, some don’t.
It
is simply what makes you keep reading, what pulls you forward, what keeps a book niggling in your mind until you simply have to reread it...or pick up the sequel.
Minder
has
it
. I was completely hooked by the premise, and
Minder
definitely delivered.” - Elephants on Trapezes