Mindsiege (12 page)

Was Jonas right? Did one of Dad’s trusted friends murder him? Maybe not plant the bomb in his car, but set the events in motion.

Jonas
,
I have one more question
. I searched every corner of my brain. No sign of Jonas.
Jonas!
Great. Always there when I don’t want him, gone when I need him.

The bell rang. Any second now, the hallway would be filled with students. Though I wanted to see my roommate, there were many students I didn’t want to talk to. Not now.

I jogged to the girls’ bathroom. A face I barely recognized stared back at me from the mirror, complete with dark circles, pale cheeks, eyebrows that needed plucking, and hair that needed washing. I was a mess.

The door squeaked behind me. I turned to find my nemesis, Briana, staring at me. It always amazed me how she made a school uniform look attractive, sexy even. Her skirt was shorter than most. She wore a more fitted white blouse. It also helped that Briana spent more than the ten minutes I had on hair and makeup. Her long red hair curled into loose waves. Blush, eyeshadow, eyeliner, and gloss were applied just so.

“Where the hell have you and Jack been?”

Upon hearing her demeaning attitude, I imagined her eyeliner and mascara streaking down her face after I held her head in a toilet for a few seconds.

“Why? Did you miss me?”

“You? No,” she scoffed.

Of course, she missed Jack. “We missed one day of school, Bree. What’s your problem?”

She shifted on her feet and clutched a book she was holding close to her chest. “I need to talk to Jack. Where is he?” If I hadn’t known Bree so well, I could have sworn her eyes were starting to tear.

I cocked my head, studied her, and thought of Dia. I wondered if Bree had similar mind trick capabilities. Did she know it?
Jack, where are you? Bree’s got me cornered in the girl’s bathroom. She’s acting a little neurotic, and she’s looking for you.

I’m checking on Addison. Tell her you’re getting ready to meet me at lunch and invite her to join us.

Seriously?

Yes.

“Well, Bree, since you asked so nicely, and because we’re such great friends, I can tell you that Jack is meeting me for lunch. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”

Bree turned on her heels and headed for the door. Before exiting, she turned back. “You need some mascara or something. You look like crap.”

Wow, she’s a piece of work. A hot piece of work, but sheesh. Want to teach her a lesson?
Jonas asked.

No, I don’t.
What did that mean, anyway? This didn’t sound like the same Jonas I had just spoken with. This Jonas scared me.
Please get out of my head, Jonas.
Bree left while I continued my silent argument with Jonas.

No can do. I need you to do something for me.

No.

You don’t have a choice, Lexi. Do you remember how it felt to hold a knife above your head with its tip pointed at Jack? Can you imagine what it would have looked like if you had actually rammed it into his chest? The blood. The look in his eyes when he opened them and saw that the girl he loves was murdering him in his sleep.

What do you want me to do?
Even inside my head, my voice sounded small. This was definitely not the same Jonas who’d helped me evade IIA agents the previous night. I was starting to believe that it was, in fact, someone else invading my mind through Jonas’s. But the fact remained: I was seeing Jonas any time this person got inside my head.

I want you to go to the infirmary, now, and tell no one where you’re going.

Chapter Thirteen

You got me here, now what?
I asked Jonas as I stood in the basement of the infirmary.

The walls around me were stark white, clinical. The new location of The Program looked like a surgical center, not a place for learning like I had expected. The Program was supposed to be a way for those of us at Wellington to challenge ourselves, to further our medical studies before we completed high school. No one had ever led me to believe The Program would be a crash course in how to use my brain to bring people back from near-death.

The hallway was quiet. Each movement I made echoed off of the bare walls and tiled floor.

Last door on the right. You know where we’re going.

He was leading me to where we’d left Sandra and Addison on Friday night. I eased my way down the hallway. I heard no voices as I walked, only the sound of my own running shoes stepping lightly. My heartbeat quickened. I didn’t want to see Addison without Jack, and I didn’t want to see Sandra at all.

I pushed the door open. Memories of Friday flooded back. Of freeing Jack from the drug that had left him unconscious. Of healing Addison’s brain injuries. Of Cathy, Seth, Dr. Wellington, and their mysterious intentions for me and The Program.

I had fled Wellington and the overbearing forces of Cathy and The Program to keep from being used like a pawn in a chess match, yet here I was. And now I was being manipulated by a different force.

I moved into the room slowly. Addison was gone from the bed she had lain in three days ago. Sandra still lay lifeless in a bed on the end, her brown hair tousled against the pillow. Her chest rose and fell slowly, the only outward indication that her heart continued to beat.

The door closed behind me with an insignificant click that nevertheless thundered in my oversensitive mind. Only when I was completely in the room did I notice the woman sitting at a small desk. Her eyes were wide, and darted from me to Sandra and back. “Oh, my freaking goodness,” she said. She stood, took two steps, and fainted, hitting her head hard on a chair behind her as she fell.

I ran to her side. “Crap!” I checked her head for blood. Nothing. Good.

I laid her head back down gently and ran to one of the empty beds for a pillow. After placing it behind her head, I looked for a way to call for help.

Make sure she doesn’t have a concussion. You know how.

Jonas was right. I knew how. I examined her brain for signs of injury, but found nothing.
I think she’s okay. She probably just fainted from seeing a replica of the woman lying in the hospital bed.
I’d faint, too, if I thought it would help.

Just leave her there.

What? I can’t leave her.

Yes, you can. Now pull a chair over and sit beside Sandra. We need to talk.

I rolled a chair over and sat next to my genetic original, my back straight and stiff. My knee bounced up and down as I examined the facial features of the woman in front of me. It still unnerved me to see what I would like in about thirty years.
Now what?

I need you to show me Sandra’s brain. Show me what is keeping her in a coma.

I ran my fingers along Sandra’s forehead and down her cheeks. The coma she was in masked the real Sandra. Her vulnerability overshadowed the personality my father told me about in his notes. I thought back to the email someone sent me—an email from Sandra to an agent with the IIA, which implicated Dad and Dr. DeWeese in her immoral and illegal schemes.

Dad said she had sold her research to the IIA and even consulted with them. After visiting The Farm, I now knew that she more than advised the IIA. Much more.

At Jonas’s insistence, I pictured Sandra’s brain. Immediately the colorful patterns of neurons firing came into view. The criss-crossing of axons—the paths between neurons—were shining like multi-colored glow necklaces found at amusement parks after dark. I honed in on the pooling of liquid at the base of the brain, where cerebral fluid had leaked. This was what was causing Sandra to remain unconscious. The amount of liquid accumulating looked even worse than I remembered from Friday.

What do you see?
Jonas asked.

I gave Jonas my assessment.
Seth said Sandra injected herself with some sort of genetic manipulating substance.

The question is, What are we going to do about it?

I thought my decision to do nothing was a good one, and assuming Jonas’s question was rhetorical, I decided he wasn’t expecting an answer. Besides, I wasn’t sure what would happen if I flushed this substance from Sandra’s head. The act of bringing her out of a coma could make me extremely ill. Or what if Jack was right? What if we didn’t know the consequences of my healing abilities yet? I certainly didn’t want to suffer a grand mal seizure like Georgia had.

And it might not even work.

Minutes passed. Jonas had fallen silent. I searched the corners of my mind for him. Having him in my head felt like a lingering illness—like the tail end of a flu where I was mostly better, but a dull ache still hung out along my temple.

I yawned, barely able to keep my eyes open as I sat and waited for further instruction from the boy with control over me. I had barely slept the night before, thanks to the train-jumping.

I rested my forehead against my folded arms on Sandra’s bed, thinking I’d just close my eyes for a few minutes, and hoping Jonas would move along and harass some other poor unsuspecting soul.

“Lexi,” someone whispered in my ear.

Moaning, I buried my face deeper into the bed. The scent of cigarette smoke reached my nostrils even as I inhaled the smell of detergent from the bed sheets. I didn’t want to wake up.

The realization of where I was came crashing back. I raised my head. Sandra remained comatose a few inches from me. I swiveled around slowly in my chair to find Jonas sitting, his legs crossed, on top of the neighboring bed. A cigarette hung from one corner of his lips.

“You can’t smoke in here.” My eyes circled the room. It was a stupid thing to say, but it was the first thought that entered my mind when I saw the person who was seizing my mind. My heart beat faster as panic set in and I remembered where I was. And now Jonas was actually in the room? I stood and backed away. The nurse remained on the floor by the desk. “How did you get in here?”

“In where?”

“Don’t be obtuse, Jonas. How did you get inside Wellington?”

He cocked his head. The edges of his lips curled into a smirk. “I can get anywhere you are, Lexi.”

I squeezed the bridge of my nose. “You’re in my dream.”

“Not exactly.” He took a drag, then made smoke circles in the air. “This is my first lesson for you.”

“Lesson?”

“I need something from you, and I’m willing to pay for it.”

I crossed my arms. “I’m listening.” Maybe we were finally getting to the root of Jonas’s irritating existence inside my head.

“I need you to heal Sandra.”

“No.” I stood up taller.

Jonas smiled. “You haven’t even heard what I’m willing to give in return.”

“Why would I help Sandra?” I could think of several reasons not to: Cathy wanted me to, Jonas wanted me to, and it would make me terribly sick. Healing Addison had landed me in the bed for two days. Not to mention, why would I fix this woman with a god complex who put herself into a coma by playing recklessly with her own scientific experiments? She knew no limits.

Jonas’s smile faded. “There are reasons not to heal Sandra, but the reasons to fix her far outweigh the risks.”

“And those are?”

“There are two. One, I’d train you to block me and the others who are capable of controlling your mind and actions. Consider it my thank-you.”

I was still hoping Jack, Kyle, and I could figure that out together. That was part of the reason Jack had forced me to run back to Wellington.

“And two,” Jonas continued. “Sandra made sure the clones she created suffered consequences when using their special abilities. This was to prevent any one of us from going all rogue on her.”

“That sounds more like a reason to let her rot.”

“She knows how to cure your bloody noses, and your unconsciousness after you heal matters of the brain. She can remove Jack’s extreme nausea after he treats injuries.”

“And she can get rid of your panic attacks?” I asked, assuming that his panic attacks had everything to do with controlling me. Served him right.

“And Kyle’s blindness.”

Kyle longed to use his ability without experiencing temporary blindness, and I hated that Jack felt sick every time he healed someone. It would be near impossible to learn the extent of our abilities if we fell ill anytime we used our minds the way they were designed to be used.

The simple answer would be to tell Jonas no. I still wasn’t convinced I would ever use these unnatural abilities—however, what my friends chose wasn’t up to me. What if their destiny in life was to help others as only they could? I didn’t want them to suffer if there was a way for me to help them. Who was I to think I had all the answers for everybody else?

Furthermore, I had a strong desire to learn how our minds were wired. I needed to block out Jonas—and anyone else with this mindsieging ability.

“Okay, so what’s my first lesson?”

“So, you agree? You’ll heal Sandra’s brain?” His voice showed a hint of excitement.

“I didn’t say that. I want to know what you’re offering.” I was willing to do just about anything to regain control of my mind from Jonas.

He cocked his head. The corners of his lips lifted. “You don’t get it, do you?” He uncrossed his legs and slid off the bed.

“Get what? That you want me to do something that might very well kill me?”

He walked close enough to me that I could reach out and touch him. I was tempted to do just that. Would I be able to feel him if I did? Wasn’t this just a dream?

He took another step, then reached out and grabbed my wrist. His fingers wrapped around one by one, gripping my wrist with pressure that told me he was very much right there in front of me. With a quick jolt, he spun me so that I was facing away from him and staring at Sandra. “I will not let you die,” he whispered close to my ear. “But you
will
heal Sandra. I brought you here to get you used to the idea. I will be with you when you do it, and I will help you. I will make sure you live through the process.”