Voice (12 page)

“I overheard he was going to destroy the cure, Jack. I couldn’t just wait. Heidi helped when I told her what was going on. And then after, Josh was just so angry, but he was still smiling, and he kept telling me that any harm that came to anyone I cared about, it was all my fault.” Jemma didn’t realize she was shaking until Jack pulled her into his arms, careful not to jostle her. She hid her face against his chest.

“You
saved
everyone, Jemma.” Jack rubbed her back with one hand, keeping her cradled against him with the other. “He’s the one who hurts people.”

She closed her eyes and nodded, feeling the surge of affection he sent, smiling when she realized it wasn’t adding to her pain. “Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“We’re still telepathic.”

“Mmm.” His chest rumbled against her face. “Seems like there isn’t much distance on it, though.”

“No. I couldn’t feel you until right before you came around the corner of the building.” She hesitated. “I think I’m too comfortable to test the distance right now.”

“Fair enough. We’ll test it later.” He sent contentment, and she returned it, which seemed to make it a little stronger, though nowhere near as strong as they’d been able to send before. “Anything more than words seems to need contact. I tried when we were in the car.”

“Jack?” Suddenly too tired, too drained to continue moving her mouth, she switched to Talking.

“Yes?” he answered the same way.

“Thanks for coming to get me. I think I’m going to fall asleep now.”

“I might beat you to it.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

Panic

Sometimes, when she was dreaming, Jemma knew it. This time, any reason was overwhelmed by panic.

She couldn’t move. She was strapped to her chair in Josh’s lab, and she couldn’t move. He’d prepared syringe after syringe, and he was ready to test each and every one on her.

“You should’ve listened, Jemma.” His voice echoed through her, his grin plastered to his face just inside her range of vision. How long had he been able to Talk? He lingered at her arm, the first syringe in hand. “If you’d listened, this would’ve been so much easier.”

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t get away from him. He was everywhere. He was next to her, injecting her with liquid that burned, and he was inside her mind.

“Leave me alone!”

“You’ll never really be free of me, Jemma. On some level, you have to know that.” He picked up the next syringe. This one burned even more, fire licking at her veins, and her mind started crawling.

“Jemma.” The comforting voice was too far away, too far to latch onto, and it didn’t slow Josh down as he reached for yet another syringe. She pulled at her straps, twisting and yanking until she was able to see Dr. Harris standing just a few feet away, clipboard in hand, scribbling notes in apparent disinterest.

“Dr. Harris,
please
.”

“He won’t help you. I’m the brains, here, Jemma, not him.” Another prick, the pain unbearable, her head ready to explode.

“Jemma!” Jack’s voice echoed this time, breaking through Josh’s even tones, giving her the tether she needed to open her eyes.

Seeing someone hovering over her, even if it was only Jack, furthered her panic, and she felt herself scrambling backward without having made the conscious decision to do so. She stopped with her back against the headboard, her knees against her chest, and she somehow found enough of herself to hold up one hand, to stop Jack from trying to come any closer.

Her heart was racing, pounding against her chest hard enough that she couldn’t catch her breath. It didn’t help that it didn’t feel like there was enough oxygen in the air, like the breath she was working so hard to pull into her body wasn’t doing any good.

“It’s okay, Jemma.” Jack was speaking in a quiet, steady voice. He’d sat back so he wasn’t invading her space, but he was close enough for her to reach out to if she needed. She watched him speaking, focused on how his mouth wrapped around the words, something she’d never really been able to see him do, trying to get her mind on anything but the dream that was still very present or the panic that was still coursing through her veins. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. We’re together, and you’re free. He doesn’t have you anymore. It’s okay. You’re safe.”

It felt like hours passed with Jack repeating the same reassurances before Jemma was able to lower the hand she hadn’t realized she’d kept raised.

“I was back in his lab,” Jemma whispered, still watching Jack’s mouth, which opened as if to speak before closing. “He kept testing everything on me, and he was in my head, too, Jack.” She groaned and dropped her forehead to her knees. “What if I can’t get past this?”

“Hey. It’s been hours, Jemma, that’s all, and what you went through…” She felt the bed shift slowly as he joined her against the headboard, and she shifted so she was leaning against him, without unwinding herself fully. “I’m not sure many people would be functioning even half as well as you are. It was a nightmare. You’re allowed to have nightmares.” He paused. “I’ve had some, too, and they never went as hard on me, not really.”

“We need to do something, Jack. We need to make sure this is over.” She opened her eyes and looked toward the scrambler, still blinking sedately at her. “We already knew we couldn’t live like this. On the run, worried all the time, not able to contact our families. It’s part of why we went back. We need to finish it.”

“That’s part of what we’re going to talk to the senator about. I think things have changed enough, with the world and with him, that we can make more progress. We can figure out some way to work with him and accomplish
something
without having to risk ourselves anymore. I think we’ve done enough.”

She nodded, leaning further into him. He put his arm around her, pulling her closer, sending reassurance and affection. “My head still hurts, on top of everything else,” she sent, rather than speaking aloud, “but at least Talking doesn’t seem like it’s making it worse anymore.”

Jack placed a kiss to her hair, sending agreement. “It’s almost morning. We must’ve both been pretty tired. Want to go ahead and head out?”

Jemma took a deep breath and released it. She still felt drained, but it wasn’t like she’d be able to get back to sleep, not after that. “As long as we can get something caffeinated and something to eat on the way, I don’t have any objections.”

***

They pulled into the senator’s familiar driveway several hours later. The coffee and the food had helped some, as well as the change of clothes Jack had produced, but the distance had helped more, Jemma relaxing better the farther they got from where she’d been held.

“Ready?” asked Jack. Jemma nodded, opening her door and staring at the imposing home. Jack came around to her side and took her hand, portable scrambler in his other hand. She closed her door behind her, took a breath, and led them to the entrance, knocking firmly on the front door.

The senator opened it after less than a minute. His eyes flickered between Jack and Jemma before settling on her. “I’m sorry.” As with the others she’d spoken to, his mental voice and his physical one matched, but he sounded so dejected that Jemma was taken a little off guard.

She still wasn’t ready to forgive him, though it was already harder to stay angry now that they were face-to-face. “Can we come in? It’s been a long drive, and I guess there are things that need to be said.”

He stepped back, holding the door open. Once they were inside and the door shut and locked, he led them past the formal sitting room and to the more comfortable lounge, gesturing wordlessly for Jack and Jemma to get situated on the couch while he took the recliner, sitting forward in it, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, looking down at the floor. “I panicked. Jack was gone, and you were about to be, and I knew you wanted me to risk myself, too, and so I just blocked everything out for a little while.” His voice had gotten more polished, more the version she’d expected to hear.

She took Jack’s hand. “He’s rehearsed this,” she sent.

“I think so, too. It doesn’t mean it’s not the truth.” Jemma looked at Jack, and he raised one shoulder.

Seeming oblivious to the silent exchange, Senator Myles Pratt continued. “It wasn’t for long, just a few hours at most. I realized what I was doing, how wrong it was, and I stopped, but by that point, it was too late. I couldn’t feel you anymore, and you must have already been taken.” He looked up at her, and Jemma held his gaze.

The cure had already been ready. If he’d just gone public with the information when they’d asked, maybe they could have gotten it released without ever being recaptured. She wouldn’t have constant, splitting pain, vision problems, or difficulty moving her arm.

Then again, Josh was already willing to destroy the cure under less dramatic circumstances. If Myles had gone public, he would’ve destroyed it without hesitating. She was sure of it. So then the only difference his contact would likely have made would have been to provide some support when she needed it, and she’d been able to get through the ordeal on her own.

She took another deep breath and released it. It wasn’t like she could really be completely unforgiving of panic, at the moment. She nodded, not quite ready to say the words that would absolve him of guilt, but ready to move forward. “Jack mentioned you were trying to work with some contacts?”

“Right.” He took a breath before allowing the subject change. “I don’t know whether Jack’s had a chance to fill you in on how the world in general is reacting.” Jemma shook her head. The car ride had been mostly quiet, Jack letting her unwind. They’d gotten breakfast at a drive-through that had still been automated, and they hadn’t had to stop again. “It’s not exactly negative, but it isn’t stable, either. Nobody knows what’s going on. Voices came back a lot more slowly than they disappeared, and there are a handful of people who don’t have their voices back yet at all. Because of the way it returned, spreading like a virus, the people who still can’t talk, they’re getting quarantined. People are worried about silence spreading again, about getting reinfected even though doctors are insisting the Event didn’t work the same way.”

“The Tricorp BioD scientists might know what’s going on with the exceptions.” Jemma went back through Heidi’s explanation. Isolating those still affected wouldn’t increase their chances of being cured, but she still didn’t really understand how the nanocreatures themselves worked. If these were resistant to the cure, what if they had mutated enough that they really
could
reinfect the population? It would be just like Josh to design a failsafe. She swallowed. “We need to make sure the company is taken down and that all of their experts are cooperating in any way they can.”

“Or locked firmly behind bars.” Jack backed his statement up with a surge of anger.

Jemma nodded. “Some of them. At least the ones we might not be able to trust to help.”

Myles sighed. “I agree. That’s why I’ve pulled as many strings as I can. I’m going to host essentially a press conference tomorrow. I’m going public with what I know, like I should have in the first place. I’ll be keeping the two of you anonymous, but I’m sharing everything except names. I’m taking Tricorp BioD down, even if they find a way to take me down with them, and I’m doing it tomorrow, before I have a chance to change my mind.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

Your Attention

Jemma sat up and reached for Jack, Josh’s voice still echoing in her ears, insisting she’d never be free of him. Her heart was racing, but she still had control of her body, her breathing.

“You okay?” His voice was rough with sleep as he blinked up at her in the dim light, helping her find his hand.

“I’m all right. It wasn’t as bad this time. At least I knew I was dreaming.” She looked over to make sure the scrambler was still working, then tried to get comfortable again without letting go of Jack’s hand. “I hate feeling like this.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“In books and movies, so often they make it so sharing a bed with someone you care about, it keeps the nightmares away.” She hesitated, not wanting to word things wrong, but not at her most able to string words together coherently. “It’s obviously not keeping them away, sleeping with you, but it helps when I wake up, knowing you’re here. It’s easier to figure out what’s the dream and what’s not, to convince myself that he’s not really here.”

Jack pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “As long as you want me with you, you’ve got me.” His voice was slow and a little slurred, and Jemma smiled. He was barely awake. She must really have controlled herself better this time. “Will you be able to fall back to sleep?”

“I think so, yeah.” She yawned as if to confirm the statement and closed her eyes, falling asleep a few minutes later with her hand still tucked safely away in Jack’s.

***

When they woke again, the morning light streamed in through the window, and the house was empty. They found a note on the kitchen counter: