No Peace for the Damned (15 page)

I couldn’t run fast enough.

Night fell quickly. Before I knew it, I was several miles from the farmhouse.
Shit
. I wound through the trees, following the sound of cars on a busy road. When I could see the street, I recognized it from my trip to Target. No wonder I had a cramp—I’d just run about twenty miles in ten minutes. With deep breaths, I walked along the road back to my farmhouse, staying under the cover of trees and bushes. The return trip took much longer.

At least my run had served its purpose: by the time I got home, I was too exhausted to think anymore. My Target-brand sheets and quilt welcomed me with cool comfort. On the bed, I curled on my side and sighed. My flowing yellow curtains waved me good night right before I closed my eyes and passed out.

…

Everything was red. Painful, pulsing red. It felt like an ax had lodged itself right in the middle of my forehead, splitting my skull in two. This wasn’t one of my normal dreams. It was too painful.

I took a deep breath, hoping to ease some of the pain. A rancid stench filled my lungs—mildew mixed with blood and grain.
I flinched and the rub of restraints burned against my ankles and wrists.
Oh God
. It was all too familiar not to recognize.

No, no, no, no!
This could not be happening. It
had
to be a dream. But the pain was too real to deny.

I was back.

Somehow, some way, they had gotten through the Network defenses, past my own senses, and dragged me back to the estate. I strained to peel open my eyes. When I did, a wave of nausea overwhelmed me. My stomach turned over. My throat burned, and the smell was enough to make me heave again. I leaned forward, gagging.

I pulled at my arms. Just like my eyes, moving was a forced effort. My body wasn’t working right.

There was a sound. It must have been ongoing, but I only noticed it now. Some kind of low grinding. A machine of some sort. No voices, no cars in the near distance.
Shit
.

The walls were dark and powdered with dried dirt and ancient grain. The reinforced ceiling, a large square window, the thick metal door in front of me. I hadn’t been in here since I was child, but I knew where I was: the farthest silo on the southern acres. It was rusted to the point of crumbling. To the left of the door was a desk with a table lamp turned on. And next to the lamp sat my guard—a small, dark-haired man in a disheveled gray suit…sleeping. His snores were the low grinding I heard. His collared shirt was unbuttoned nearly halfway down his hollow chest and his feet hung off the end of the desk. Thin and lanky—was this a joke? My head not restrained, a nothing guard—
What the hell was going on?

I closed my eyes as a wave of dizziness overtook me. With a deep breath, I stretched against my restraints and felt leather bite into my wrists.

Wait a minute.
Leather straps? Were they serious?
Only thick chains were ever strong enough to hold me. I pulled again, but my arm barely moved under the leather.

The guard shifted in his sleep, and suddenly he wasn’t the dark-haired, skinny man anymore. He wasn’t a man at all. He was a woman, her blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, stretching her already sharp features. Alabaster skin spotted with dark, scabbed lesions covered her sickly frame. A torn and stained halter top accented the knobs of bone in her shoulders, and her shredded jean shorts were cut too short to leave anything to the imagination.

Terror consumed me. I couldn’t breathe. The woman turned her sunken face toward me. “Teddy?” she asked in a heavy whisper. “Teddy Bear, is that you?”

Images slashed through my mind. Foreign, haunting scenes of a life before I was put in foster care, before I found Jon and the others, before I won a scholarship to Butler and became a decorated Navy SEAL. A life before the Network—a life with a mother, the hooker who raised me on the streets of Chicago.

I squeezed my eyes shut.
Please, please no!

The guard coughed and grumbled then returned to the rhythm of his heavy snores. I peeked through my lids again and the scrawny man was back, still sleeping soundly with his head back against the wall.

What…the fuck…was that?

I pulled against the leather straps hard this time, but again, my arms barely lifted at all. Drugs could explain the hallucinations and the nausea, but what was with this weakness? Maybe there was a chain-linked interior to the straps or something…

I stopped. The leather had cut into my wrist—a tanned, thick wrist that led to a firm, calloused hand with blunt nails and a thin scar across the knuckles.

This wasn’t my hand.

My mind worked furiously. This was not my body, not my memories. It was not
me
being held here. It was only a piece of my mind in this horrific place.

Relief washed over me. Wherever I was, I was safe from this nightmare. But this body and mind were not. Whoever had been captured and brought to this place, he didn’t have my powers to free himself or to recover from whatever torture awaited. And I was here in his mind, experiencing it with him.

I concentrated on separating my voice from his to hear those thoughts that weren’t my own. The collage of profanity in this man’s mind rang through, more impressive than anything I had ever heard. This guy was seriously pissed and seriously scared. Strangely, the thought of the emaciated woman returning frightened him more than any possible torture that was sure to come.

He just didn’t know any better.

The snoozing guard stirred again. We had to get out of here. Like, now. With a deep breath, I reached out with my thoughts.

Um, calm down, please. I want to get you out of here
.

Silence. Great. Maybe if I just tried to focus on this guy’s thoughts rather than trying to speak with mine…

What the hell is wrong with me? I’m hearing fucking voices now? What the fuck did they give me?

Thank God. I tried again with my most soothing voice
. Please, I’m not part of the drugs, but you have to let me help you get out of here
.

Fuck that! These fuckers are going to pay for even thinking they could mess with my head!

OK, this wasn’t working.

Centering on his right arm, I forced my will and strength into his body. In a fast, smooth movement I pulled the wrist free from the leather binding without leaving so much as a burn on his skin.

See, I can get you out of here if you’ll just shut up and listen to me!

There was a long pause.
Mag?

My thoughts scattered. The coined nickname, the sudden warm and violent fluttering inside me—how could I have not known? My family had captured Theo. And somehow, through the connection between us, I was with him.

It took several moments for me to compose myself.

I—I can get you out of here, but you have to give me some control
.

How the hell am I supposed to do that?

I just pulled your arm free because you didn’t fight me. Let me get you free from your restraints, then we’ll get the hell out of here
.

You know where I am?

Yes
.

Movement from the corner caught us off guard. Our snoozing guard was awake. He hopped to the dirt floor with barely a thud and stretched his lanky arms to the ceiling.

While the guard’s face was pointed at the ceiling in his stretch, I pulled Theo’s other arm and both legs free from their binds with one quick move. He gasped but was quiet enough not to gain the guard’s attention.

What the…? Warn me before you do something like that again!

Sorry
.

The guard shot us a glance then looked steadily at his watch, counting the minutes to the next shift change. Suddenly his appearance changed again. From my mind’s eye I knew the man was still peering down at his watch, still calculating. But through
Theo’s eyes the disturbing blonde woman was back, and her black eyes looked wild as her gaze met ours.

“Teddy Bear!” her voice scratched like broken glass. “You listen to me and get your skinny ass down there like Sonny said. Do you want to go back in the coal room?”

Theo froze in horror.

A protective impulse sprang to life inside me. I focused an angry surge of power from my consciousness into Theo’s, clearing his head and evaporating the hallucination. The small guard was still looking at his watch. No more than a couple of seconds had passed.

Then the guard turned his full attention to us. A slow, creepy smile spread across his face, revealing a mouth full of stained little teeth.

It was his last expression.

Theo moved like a natural predator. Fluid. His lunge was beautiful, smooth and fast in a way that seemed choreographed. And watching him move through his own eyes, I saw how automatic his grace was, how disciplined and confident…and deadly. The skinny man was dead on his feet before he knew we were out of the chair.

Theo gently laid the man on the dirt floor and began scanning for cameras and other security. I wasn’t sure if I was more impressed by his gentleness or his fierceness. Either way, I was totally getting hot.

They know something’s happened
. Theo thought.
They’re turning on some kind of furnace or something
.

Oops.

Er, no, the only camera is on the other side of the door. The wire is exposed at the doorframe
.

The last thing I needed from him was more attitude so I didn’t force his eyes upward to where the wire was obviously visible.
He’d barely started to scan the doorframe when he turned a sudden about-face and ran to the desk. Quickly he rummaged through the drawers.

Um, we’re kind of in a hurry here
.

He ignored me. In the second drawer he found it: a long horseshoe pritchel. Twelve inches long, it was thicker than an ice pick and sharper on its tip. It had dried blood thick on the length of its shaft. Theo held it up to the light, examining it as he rotated his wrist back and forth. He held it like he should—like a weapon. Watching him in all his seductive, predatory glory set off my butterflies.

The wire
, I reminded him.

Instantly, he was back at the door. He glanced over the exposed cable twice before he saw it. With his fast fingers—not the time to ponder that fact too closely—he disabled the camera. In a matter of seconds we were poised at the door to make our escape.

Wait
, I cautioned
. They always keep someone on guard outside. I’m going to need to listen. Do you
mind
if I use your ears?

His eyes rolled and a wave of dizziness rocked our balance.

OK, don’t do that again
.

Well don’t be so damn patronizing!

Great, more attitude.

Are you going to let me listen or not?

His arm waved in an impatient response—my sign to go ahead. He leaned closer to the door, not realizing that it wasn’t necessary. Once he turned over control of his ears, I could hear the stale conversation of the yard crew on the southern acres, and then, farther, voices of those in the main house.

All at once my heart stopped. Father was here, inside the main house. I could hear him snapping orders to one of the servants. His voice scraped along the inside of my mind, paralyzing
every other thought. Theo froze, sharing in my terror. I could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

What’s happening?

I couldn’t respond, couldn’t even think. The horrors of my life were too close. Please don’t let them know I’m alive. I felt the words more than thought them.

Mag
. Theo’s thoughts were stern
. Mag, I need you to focus. I’m not going to let them do anything to us, do you understand? Just show me the way out and we will leave this place
.

It took a full minute, and everything I had, to turn away from my father’s voice.

OK
, I finally responded.
There’s no one outside the door, but security guards monitor the cameras so we only have a few minutes before someone comes to check on the disabled wires
.

Theo tucked the horseshoe pick in his waistband and used both hands to grip the large dead bolt. With a heave he cranked open the heavy metal door. There was a small, enclosed area, maybe four feet by four feet with a low sheet metal ceiling and concrete floor. At the end was a second locked door that led to the outside. Theo swung the large metal door closed behind us, locking it in place with a clang. He winced as he turned to the second door. A step forward, then he hissed. Clutching his right shoulder, he fell against one of the unfinished walls. When he brought his hand back down, blood covered it.

You’re hurt
.

Wherever my body was, it had stopped breathing. Fear, worry, guilt—I was consumed by the thought of someone tearing into Theo’s body they way they had mine so many times. How stupid could I be? Assuming that when I had awoken in his mind, his time as a captive had just started. I should have known better.

What did they do to you? What did they want to know?

I don’t remember
, he thought and clutched his shoulder tighter. I could feel him trying to recall what happened, but his thoughts were fuzzy, disjointed from the drugs.

Don’t worry about it now. We need to get out of here
.

He nodded absently. Now that the pain had surfaced he was weaker, but his determination was incredible.

OK, what do I do?

On the other side of the door will be two paths. One leads to the horse barns and the other leads into the woods that circle the estate. Take the trail on the right into the woods. I don’t know if it’s night or day, so you’ll need the tree cover
.

Theo nodded. He put his back against the wall. He peered from the side, the pritchel back in his left hand as he opened the door with his right. As the door cracked open, a sliver of gray light shone in the dark room. There was no movement or sound in the immediate area—only the chirp of crickets and the buzz of mosquitoes to fill our ears.