Revelations (24 page)

“Get out!” he screamed again.

I stepped back. “Please, Christian,” I begged.

He raised his fist to my face and shook it. “I can kill you,” he said. “I can.”

I believed him. I believed this man would kill me if I didn’t leave. So I did. There was nothing left to salvage from him. Almost afraid to turn my back on him, I opened the door and closed it silently behind me. Starch held me upright as I leaned back against it and closed my eyes.

I put my head against his shoulder. He could easily tell by my face that I failed.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”

I followed his lead, keeping us both hidden in every mind we came across. I felt safer once we were out on the street. I continued to follow Starch as he went to the nearest pay phone to dial a cab to take us back to the airport. Only after the call was made did he ask me the question.

“Was there anything left of him?”

I shook my head. “Nothing,” I said. “Do you have a pen?”

Starch dug in the small bag he’d brought along and handed me a Bic pen.

I took the pen and his hand, turning it over so I could write on the palm. There, I drew two ragged symbols. “Nothing except that. Those were dominant in his thoughts.”

Starch took back his hand and examined what I’d written. “The number ‘4’ and the letter ‘s’.”

I nodded.

“Do you know what that means?”

I nodded again.

He raised his eyebrows.

“There are many places in the U.S. where the gov keeps its secrets,” I said, sitting on the curb to wait for the cab. He sat beside me as I continued, “There are the ones people know about, the popular ones. Area 51. Mount Weather. The Dugway Proving Ground. Fort Polk. There are the less popular ones. I could go on and on. Then there is S-4. In Nevada just off the Extraterrestrial Highway. I’m assuming he was there,” I said. “I’m assuming whatever was done to him was done there. I’m assuming he remembers only those two letters because he knew I’d find him. He knew I’d read his mind. He wants me to go there—”

“Chris,” Starch said, stopping my rant. “You sound like some paranoid UFO fanatic.”

“Starch,” I said. “I have no other choice.”

Starch bowed his head and sighed. “Look, you’re sick. You need to rest. I shouldn’t have even let you come out here so soon. I want you to go back to Philip’s house, rest a few more days then we’ll see about Nevada. Can you do that for me?”

I looked into his blue eyes and lied more easily than I would have liked to. “Yes,” I said. “I can do that.”

Chapter Forty-Eight

The flight back to California was uneventful. Starch and I took a shuttle back to Philip’s house, and I retreated into the guest room. They left me alone, but only after Michael gave me a quick examination. I thanked them all for what they did for me. I loved them as best I could, but we all know what happens to the people I love.

At nine o’clock that night, I walked out of Philip’s house and into the darkness alone, without anyone knowing I was even gone. Making sure it would be hours before anyone discovered me missing, I went down the residential streets to a nearby grocery store. There, I caught a man headed out to his car. Using my powerful brain, I made him hand over his keys, and I left him sitting on a curb with his groceries. I tried not to feel bad for stealing his car. I’d return it when I could. So it was that I drove out of Pasadena, out of California and out into the Nevada desert.

What I sought, I couldn’t say. Christian’s damaged mind gave me nothing more than the location I headed for. Two ragged symbols in a mind that could comprehend them as absolutely nothing. They were the most important symbols he could give me. As sorry as I was for leaving Christian there, in that awful place, I knew there was nothing I could do for him. They’d taken everything from him, including me. I had to know how to get it back. I thought the only way to find out was to head to that place, to S-4.

Little is known about this base, at least as far as the truth goes. I’ve heard rumors over the years. I listen when I believe listening is important. S-4 supposedly houses alien technology. I know better. S-4 is another place, like the old Cannon base, where the gov creates experiments.

Experiments like me.

I drove and drove, and when I drove past the exit to Cima Road, I didn’t look in that direction. I couldn’t bring myself to see the hills blocking our destroyed home from view. I couldn’t bear to look lest I see smoke rising into the air, phantom smoke from a day that seemed eons ago. I tried to think about something else.

The essence of my being lies in my DNA sequencing and in the way my mind works. I believe each and every human being is capable of what I am capable of. One only has to tap into the correct spot in the human brain to trigger the powers each individual experiment possesses. Some spots are easier to activate, like the ones controlling telepathy or telekinesis. That’s why there are so many of them out there. The areas of the brain that control my healing powers are harder to tap. That’s why there’s only me.

I reached S-4 a day later, after stopping at a rest stop to sleep for a while. I parked my stolen car way off the road, behind a hill where it wouldn’t be seen. I walked down there just as Jonas and I walked down to Cannon. Except this time I was alone.

Chapter Forty-Nine

The road to hell is paved in cobblestones of blood. I should know. I’ve been down it quite a few times. This was my first trip, the first time I descended into the fires. I walked down dark, dank hallways, down into the bowels of the earth. I came across few people, and the people I did come across quickly forgot my very existence. I was careful, and I often wiped too much from each brain, making some forget why they’d come into that hallway in the first place. I left one man scratching his head as he had forgotten the entire day. It was safer that way.

I walked and walked, just as I had when leaving New Mexico except now I was walking within the confines of a secret gov compound. I peered in windows, around doors. I rounded corners waiting for the ambush that would finally take my life. The ambush that never came.

A long flight of stairs suddenly appeared before me as I rounded a corner, and I went deeper into the base. The air was warm and thick, making it hard to breath. At times, I would pass under an air vent blowing cool air and pause to get a lung full.

I came across a soldier at the bottom of the stairs who quickly forgot my presence as I stood and watched him pace back and forth on his ordered path. I used him to find out if there was any information worth having in this horrid place. What I found was beyond anything I could imagine.

I ran.

I ran down the hallway, turned a corner and found myself at a dead end. There were two rooms in this hallway. One set of keys hung just far enough away from the cell so the prisoner couldn’t reach them through the small open window in the door.

I snatched the keys off the hook and set about unlocking the first door. I knew not to bother with the other room; it was empty. But this one….

This one.

I flung open the door and stepped inside. This place was a hundred times worse than the room Christian was being kept in. There was no bed, only a pile of filthy blankets on the floor in a corner. A collection of giant roaches hid in the dark of one corner. It had a disgusting toilet and no sink. I saw no windows. The room was lit only by the light coming in from the hallway, but there was enough light for me to see.

I closed the door behind me.

In the corner opposite the blankets, a man stood on the balls of his feet yet curled up into almost a fetal position. He was naked, and his body covered in cuts, burns, and hideous wounds. His head was buried in the crook of one arm, but I knew him. I would have known him anywhere.

He had been brutally tortured, and it was this that caused him to retreat so far into his mind as to appear insane. Unlike Christian, I could reach him. Unlike Christian, he’d gone willingly. I approached cautiously, knowing I neared a caged tiger.

“Jonas?” I said tentatively.

The form didn’t move, only made a horrible mewling sound.

I went to him and knelt. Still he made no movement. I went to touch him, but I couldn’t find a place not wounded in some way. I spread my hand and carefully placed my palm on his shoulder and said his name again. “Jonas.”

He grabbed me so quickly by my shoulders I hardly knew what happened. He rose with me in his hands, and we were across the room in an instant. He slammed me up against the metal door, and my head struck with enough force to make me see stars. Dazed, I felt my eyes roll back into my head, but I kept myself from passing out. I shook my head and opened my eyes to face him.

His amber eyes were wild, and his mind full of hatred. He didn’t know who I was, not on the surface. He thought I was one of them. This was exactly what I deserved. I found I didn’t mind.

“Jonas,” I said again. “Please, it’s me.”

His hand wandered up to my throat and closed in a vise-like grip.

Losing air quickly, I whimpered. He could crush my throat in a second, but he was savouring the moment. With my last breath of air, not caring if he killed me or not, I gasped, “It’s me. It’s Chris.”

He dropped me instantly, and I collapsed to the floor, holding my throat and gasping for air. He was beside me a second later, his hand on my upper arm. Jonas was a lot stronger than I thought, brain-wise anyway. He’d managed to retreat into his own head and was able to bring himself out of it at the mention of my name.

When I regained my ability to breathe, I struggled to my feet, but managed to get only so far as kneeling. My lungs refused to work.

“I’m sorry, love,” Jonas whispered, his voice harsh and thick through his cracked jaw, which was probably the least of his injuries. He cleared his throat, but his voice came out no less hoarse. “I didn’t mean to….”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m okay.”

“It’s really you,” he said, looking into my eyes. He put his hands on my face. “It’s really you.”

I nodded. “As much of me that’s left,” I said.

He cocked his head at me, and his smile was soft and sad.

“We need to get out of here,” I said, suddenly thanking Christian in my head, and in my heart. “And to find you some clothes.”

We got to our feet and headed down the hallway. Getting out was as easy as getting in. Getting clothes was the hard part, though not really hard considering.

Jonas was limping severely but I didn’t question or bother thinking about healing him. His jaw had a hairline fracture and so did his left arm, just above the wrist. His knee was busted into pieces. Besides those, there were enough cuts and bruises to keep me busy later on, but now I just needed to see the sun again…and get him out. This dank place was depressing and full of evil.

The guard at the bottom of the stairs became my first and only target. Since Jonas could barely walk, I took it upon myself to take care of the soldier. I came up behind him, struck him in the back of the knee with my knee and snapped his neck an instant later. I held the body as it fell so it wouldn’t make much noise upon hitting the ground. Then I stripped it and handed the clothing over to Jonas. The soldier was smaller in size than Jonas—almost everyone is— but the clothing covered him well enough. The only thing that didn’t fit was the shoes so Jonas walked barefoot.

I supported him as we went, him leaning heavily on my shoulder, but I managed to support him. I got him out. I got
us
out. I felt a wave of relief when the sunshine hit my face.

When we were safely away from S-4, I turned back once. There, standing before the doorway we’d escaped from, stood a man. He was tall and bulky and leaning on a cane. Though I couldn’t see his face, I knew him. I felt rage boiling in my soul. I’d been the one to give him the limp that caused him to walk with a cane. That had been fifteen years ago, when I was just learning martial arts. It had been an accident, my shattering his knee cap beyond repair. We were sparring and I’d hit him off kilter. He refused to let me heal him, no matter how much I begged. He’d walked with a cane ever since, a grim reminder of what he created in me. That’s how I knew him, because of the cane.

Arturo Holt.

He raised a hand and waved while I looked at him. He waved at me. He let us go. He knew, in all reality, I belonged to him, and would always belong to him.

Chapter Fifty

An hour later in my stolen car, I looked over at Jonas, who was sitting with his head against the window. I desperately wanted to heal him, but I needed to get us somewhere safe first. Safety was a long time coming; I was taking him back to Philip. I’d get him, Starch and Jonas to go somewhere safe. I knew I’d be returning to the desert of Nevada to finish the job.

“Chris?”

I looked over at Jonas again. “Are you okay?” I asked.

“Can you stop?” he asked.

I pulled the car over on the side of the road. Jonas got out and staggered off to the side. He bent double and was sick. After closing my eyes, I slammed my fist down on the steering wheel of the car. Hating myself and everything I’d ever done, I pulled a bottle of water from the backseat, glad I’d prepared for a long trip through the desert. I got out and went to the passenger side to wait for him.