Winters Family Psi Chronicles 2: Project Onyx (7 page)

A cold, deadly intent radiated from Samantha and Brian knew that even though he wanted to formulate a plan to escape, he no longer had the time to do so. She would kill the both of them now. Brian had never used his empathic ability in the way he had been planning but he had to act now. He reinforced his psionic shield right before he struck out with a heavy wave of dissonant energy at his captor. Samantha’s eyes widened and she screamed in horror as unrelenting terror clawed at her mind. Brian continued to attack empathically even as the pain doubled back on him and the pain he was causing sickened him. In a matter of seconds, she crumpled to the floor and lost consciousness. Brian sensed the shock of whoever was observing them from the next room.  He quickly reached down and pulled the key to the locked door from Samantha’s pocket.

He jabbed the key into the lock and twisted the knob. The door swung open and a young woman not much older than him stood nearby staring at the two-way mirror. She wore jeans and a pink blouse. Her brown hair was tied in a ponytail and she had a clipboard in her right hand. Her brown eyes narrowed as she focused her telepathy on attacking him. Pain flared as she squeezed painfully against his mind. Brian shot her with unrelenting waves of terror. She squeezed harder and Brian felt himself weakening. He wouldn’t be able to continue with his attack for much longer. The energy imbalance he was causing in her mind was rebounding into his own which made her own telepathic assault all the more effective. Brian’s knees threatened to buckle as agony swam through his body. Abruptly, the telepathic attack halted and a shrill scream tore from the woman’s throat. She lost consciousness and crumpled to the floor.

Nausea and pain gnawed at Brian’s insides as he stood over her. He took several deep, calming breaths and sensed Russell behind him. Brian slowly turned to face him. Russell regarded him with surprise and fatigue. His face was pallid and he looked ready to pass out.

“We need to get out of here right away,” Brian said decisively.

“She was going to kill us. I picked it up somehow. I think my telepathy is stronger now that I’m a multipath,” Russell said.

“Yes, she was planning on killing us,” Brian said.

“She avoided touching anything with her bare hands because she didn’t want me to pick up on her plans,” Russell said shakily.

Pain continued to tear at Brian’s mind from the unconscious woman because of the severe emotional balance which he’d caused in order to incapacitate her. Samantha’s emotional state as well as Russell’s also took a toll on him. His psionic shield was so weak that it barely filtered anyone’s emotions. Processing all that empathic stimuli was causing a bone deep fatigue to settle into him and his body threatened to shut down.

“We have to go,” Brian said weakly.

“You don’t look so good,” Russell said.

“It took a lot out of me to knock them out and I think I’m about to burn out,” Brian said.

They took stock of the room furnished with two long counters on two sides of the room with high-tech equipment. Two desks with computers were situated side-by-side facing the two-way mirror that offered a view of the living quarters. Brian shuffled toward the only other door which was positioned on the far side of the room. Russell followed him. Brian paused when he stood only a couple of feet away. He could sense someone approaching them. It was a male entrenched in the Quiet but a small, telltale emotional leakage gave him away.

“Someone’s coming. He knows something’s wrong,” Brian said.

The two teenagers backed away from the door. Brian frantically searched the room for a weapon and spotted a tranquilizer gun sticking out of the unconscious woman’s pants pocket. He rushed over and removed the weapon. His hand trembled and he handed it to Russell.

“I’m not going to be able to aim this,” Brian said.

“Is there another one?” Russell asked.

Brian’s heart pounded as adrenaline flooded through his body. His empathic induced terror made it difficult to think.

“There’s no time to look. He’s right outside the door now,” Brian said urgently. “I’ll distract him and you shoot him.”

“Okay.” Russell shuffled farther away from him but there was nowhere to hide.

The door flew open to reveal a heavily muscled man in his early thirties. He had close-cropped black hair and blue eyes that immediately locked onto Russell. He wore a green tee shirt and jeans and oozed an aura of intimidating strength. Brian immediately launched an empathic assault. The man’s head swiveled and shoved back hard against his thoughts. Pain cascaded through Brian’s skull and blackness crept along the edges of his vision. He couldn’t muster enough concentration to continue his dissonant wave of empathic energy at full strength. After several seconds, he could barely remain conscious much less attack anymore. Brian turned to look at Russell and was dismayed to see him swaying. The gun slipped from his grasp and clattered against the concrete floor. The man continued to bore into his mind and Brian stumbled backward instinctively until he crashed into the two-way mirror.

Brian squeezed his eyes shut as he fell to his hands and knees. Through sheer force of will, he barely managed to remain conscious and a small part of him wondered why he was doing so. What difference did it make? He’d already lost. After several more seconds, the assault on his mind abruptly halted. Brian struggled to catch his breath and waited for the attack to resume. After a moment or so, he dared to open his eyes and saw the man crumpled on the floor unconscious several feet away. A tranquilizer dart lay on the floor a couple feet off beside him. Russell had already picked himself up off the floor. Brian shot him a questioning look.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I shot him in the leg,” Russell said with a smug grin. “You had him distracted with whatever it is that you do so he didn’t notice right away. He almost knocked me out but that stuff in the dart finally kicked in.”

“I can’t stay awake,” Brian said weakly.

He pushed himself up off the floor and almost fell over. Pain seemed to be shooting at him from every direction. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He stumbled toward the door that led out of the room and fumbled with the knob. Finally, he managed to turn it and throw the door open. He and Russell stepped outside on a rundown, black asphalt parking lot. A forest surrounded them with a dirt road cutting through it. The closest vehicle was a dirty silver sedan that looked like it hadn’t been washed in months. Farther away was a shiny black SUV and beside it was silver Lexus sedan.

“We’re going to have to take one of their cars,” Russell said.

“I need to sit down. Why don’t you get keys from one of them inside?” Brian suggested.

“Okay.”

Brian sat down on the hood of a silver sedan as Russell stepped back inside the building. He emerged with a set of keys containing a remote in his left hand and a cell phone in his right. Russell pointed the remote at the three cars and tapped the button on it. The black SUV chirped and the headlights blinked once. He pushed another button to disengage the doors as he smiled widely.

“We have to hurry,” Brian said.

“Why?” Russell asked curiously.

“Samantha’s waking up,” Brian said.

Russell’s eyes widened with alarm and he swiftly climbed in behind the wheel of the bulky, black vehicle.

“Is this the man’s car?” Brian asked.

“Yes. His name is Brandon and he’s got advanced psionic training,” Russell said. Brian threw him a questioning look. “I picked up on it when I took the keys. He’s very disciplined and has a strict daily routine. He exercises first thing in the morning for an hour every day. He always has chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast on Sunday morning and he’s killed a lot of people.”

“He’s a real sicko,” Brian said emphatically.

“Tell me about it,” Russell said.

He carefully drove down the narrow, dirt road until Brian warned him that Samantha had regained consciousness. After that, he went a lot faster. Branches scraped the sides of the truck as Russell swerved back and forth on the twisting road. Finally, they reached a city street. After awhile, they had obviously reached the outskirts of a town.

“We’re in Arlington,” Brian said. “I’m not sure where but I recognize this place.”

“Too bad this truck doesn’t have a GPS unit,” Russell said grimly.

“Give me the phone and I’ll call the police,” Brian said.

“What will you tell them? We’re somewhere in Arlington?” Russell said sardonically.

“I’m sure I’ll figure out where we are soon.”

Russell frowned doubtfully as he handed over the cell phone. Brian intently gazed at the roadside as he struggled to find something familiar that he could identify. Abruptly, it fell into place and he figured out exactly where they were located. He gave instructions on how to get to his grandfather’s house which was only about six miles away and dialed 911.

Chapter 7

Brian must have blacked out because he found himself lying on the twin bed of his grandfather’s guestroom. The walls were painted a soothing sky blue with minimal furnishings including a painting on each wall dominated by light shades of green and blue. Two strangers donned in dark gray and black suits paced the room. One was a medium set man in his late twenties with brown hair and the other was a short woman reaching about four feet with long brown hair secured in a ponytail and intense green eyes. Jason Mackenzie was seated in a rocking chair at the corner of the room near the bed. His troubled gaze flicked from the man to the woman until he noticed his grandson had awakened.

“Brian,” he said.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” the male stranger said as he and his companion turned to face him and approached the bed. “I’m Agent Hurst with the FBI and this is Agent Driscol.”

Brian slowly sat up in bed and realized his condition had considerably improved. Everyone’s emotional energy no longer bombarded him, a lot of his strength had returned, and his pain had reduced to a mild headache.

“How are you feeling?” Jason asked.

“A lot better,” Brian said as he swung his legs over the side of the bed so he could sit more comfortably. He was still wearing the same clothes and had been lying on top of the bedspread. “How long was I out?”

“About six hours,” Hurst replied. “We took a team of local police to the place where you were kidnapped. Russell guided us there. Unfortunately, the kidnappers had cleared out.”

“One of their team members is a psychometrist and obliterated any useful information that I could have picked up. We were wondering what you may have learned about them,” Driscol said.

“Do Mom and Dad know I’m okay?” Brian asked.

“Yes, we alerted them that you’re safe as soon as we found you and Russell here,” Hurst said.

Brian grimaced with displeasure at the spike of energy that the FBI agent unintentionally transmitted which indicated deception.

“You’re lying,” he said bluntly.

Hurst’s brown eyes registered surprise for a fraction of a second but he quickly composed himself.

“Your parents know you’re okay,” he said.

“That’s true,” Brian said slowly as his gaze shifted over to settle on his grandfather who gazed reprovingly at the agents. “But you only just now told them.”

“How did you know that?” Driscol asked sharply.

“Whenever anyone tells a lie, they give off an uncomfortable energy that I can’t help but pick up on,” Brian explained. “Virtually all level ten empaths share that ability.”

“Of course.” Driscol nodded and smiled with satisfaction. “You’re a living, breathing lie detector. That’s a very valuable asset to the FBI or the police force. You should consider those fields.”

“I’ve already made up my mind that I’m going to be a psychologist,” Brian said.

“That’s a worthy profession. Please, tell us anything you know about the kidnappers,” Driscol said smoothly.

Her words rang false to Brian and he quickly realized it was because she didn’t value the work of psychologists. Tangible results brought on by investigation and interpretation of clues mattered to her the most. Brian brushed aside his irritation over the white lie and relayed all the information he’d amassed on the four researchers which wasn’t very much. Apparently, it was a lot more than they’d picked up before and more than Russell had given them because they listened with rapt attention as Driscol recorded his dialogue with her DPU. Driscol’s DPU was a new model, with a sleek silver frame, and a blue touch screen that printed everything that was spoken as it recorded in both text format and digital sound. When Brian finished, Hurst asked more clarification questions then straightened to his full height, unconsciously indicating the debriefing was almost finished.

“Thank you for your information. I also want to caution you that if you develop any new abilities, you must report them to the security administration immediately,” Hurst said.

“I will,” Brian said. He abruptly realized he may not get another chance to dig for information from the FBI. “It’s interesting that Samantha was so interested in the recurring nightmares that run in my family and the psychic burnout.”

“She was gathering information so she could help further her research on the causes of specific genes,” Driscol said.

“Do you think she’s been studying my family for awhile?” Brian asked.

“That’s extremely unlikely,” Hurst said smoothly but unconsciously betrayed himself as a spike in energy indicated a falsehood.

Rather than confront him on the lie, Brian carefully pulsed subtle energy to encourage the two agents to make conversation and to drop their guards.

“You’ve been searching for these researchers for quite awhile. I think you’re close to finding them,” Brian said.

“Yes, I believe we are.” Hurst’s chest puffed out and a look of arrogance took hold. “They are very meticulous but it’s mainly because of their leader, Samantha. I believe she’s OCD which means she’s not very adaptable.”

“She’ll probably make a mistake pretty soon then since this is the closest you’ve ever come to catching her. She had to abandon her laboratory,” Brian said.

“Yes, she did.” Hurst smiled smugly.

Hurst looked as though he was about to say something else but the doorbell ringing distracted him. Jason immediately breezed out of the room. The FBI agent’s gaze followed him as he exited then swung back to center on Brian.

“We’re going to have someone keep an eye on your house to make sure they don’t try to kidnap you again. Here’s my number. Call me immediately if you see anything suspicious.” Hurst handed over a small, white business card.

Paul, Teresa, and Amy burst into the room. They had a disheveled and exhausted air about them but their eyes lit with relief when they saw Brian was safe.

“Thank God!” Paul exclaimed.

He and Amy gave Brian an effusive hug and Teresa patted him on the shoulder affectionately before fixing her intense blue eyes on Hurst.

“Why did you wait so long to tell us about our son?” Teresa asked in a chilly tone.

“We needed to debrief him,” Hurst said.

“There was no reason we couldn’t be here, too,” Teresa said coolly.

“There will be an agent watching your house to make sure they don’t try to kidnap him again,” Driscol interjected. “Brian has our business card so he can call for help if he needs it. I doubt the researchers will take such a great risk though.”

“You never know. This is the first time anyone has ever escaped from them before,” Brian said.

Hurst and Driscol carefully hid their surprise but their energy pulsed with it.

“We’d better be going.” Hurst threw a smarmy smile at them. “I’m glad Brian’s okay.”

Jason followed them out of the house and locked the door before returning to the guestroom. Brian told the two of them what had occurred over the past four days.

“I’m sorry you had to suffer through that,” Paul said.

“What happened to Russell?” Brian asked.

“The police gave him a ride home,” Jason said.

“Jason told me what happened on the drive over here,” Teresa said slowly.

Teresa and Jason both possessed level ten telepathic ability so they could communicate over vast distances. Soon, Brian would be able to do the same thing.

“How does your connection to the Global Net feel?” Teresa asked with concern.

Brian hadn’t stopped to consider that. He’d never been able to assess the strength of his connection to the network. It was just there. He’d always taken it for granted. Brian closed his eyes and tried to feel it out with the same lack of result he’d always achieved throughout his life.

“I can’t get any sense of it. It’s just there,” he said.

“We need to get you scheduled to see a medical doctor or psychiatrist with connectivity psi. They’ll be able to get a more accurate reading,” Teresa said.

“You and Jason can get a sense of it, too,” Brian pointed out.

“Yes,” Teresa said grudgingly.

“You’ve already tried. What did you see?” Brian asked.

Teresa’s expression became guarded as did Jason’s.

“What’s going on?” Amy demanded heatedly. “Tell him what you see!”

Jason flinched at his granddaughter’s anger and threw a worried look at Teresa who remained silent.

“Your connection looks a lot weaker than it used to,” Jason said. “It’s not showing signs of breaking off but it’s a problem.”

“Why is it weaker?” Brian said as dread twisted in his gut.

“Most multipaths gain their abilities as toddlers. Sometimes multipathic abilities don’t awaken in certain individuals until they reach adulthood or their late teens which increases the chance that they’ll loose their connection to the network,” Jason explained slowly.

“Now that I’m a multipath, if my connection breaks away from the network, I’ll die,” Brian said shakily.

Jason nodded sadly while everyone gazed with a look of undisguised horror at him. Brian swallowed nervously as terror threatened to consume him. It wasn’t a good sign at all that his established connection had weakened so much.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get you to a shielding specialist. As long as your psionic protection stays strong, that should prevent further deterioration of your link to the network,” Teresa said.

“We should get you home so you can rest,” Paul said gently.

“I guess I’d better,” Brian said reluctantly.

He hated to leave this peaceful sanctuary with its pervasive tranquility. Maybe it was all the evergreens and plants surrounding the home coupled with the lack of intrusive energy from any neighbors which were miles away. It was with great reluctance that he left with his parents and sister to return to their house in Lynnwood. As they gathered in the living room, Brian realized he no longer felt safe here. His mind went back to his time spent in captivity and he wondered if Samantha and the others would try to get him back. Even though he knew the FBI had an agent watching the house, he still didn’t feel secure. Soon, Derek and Dick arrived to visit.

“It’s good to see you,” Derek said. “We were worried.”

“So was I,” Brian said. “I knew she planned on killing me after a week.”

“I’m sure you would have thought of a plan if Russell hadn’t forced you to act before you were ready,” Amy said emphatically.

This prompted Derek and Dick to demand more details of what had happened since they hadn’t yet heard. Brian filled them in and they listened with rapt attention.

“Man! That’s intense,” Dick said.

“Quit trying to sound hip,” Amy said. “It makes you sound your age.”

Dick scowled at her in annoyance as he didn’t like to be reminded he was elderly.

“Where’s Stephanie?” Derek asked.

“Things didn’t work out,” Dick said dismissively.

A flare of energy pulsed to indicate he wasn’t being completely honest. Brian ignored the psychic input as he almost always received it when people spoke about the end of their relationships.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Paul said sympathetically.

“Don’t try to psychoanalyze me, Paul,” Dick said heatedly. “Next thing you’ll say is that you know exactly how I feel. I don’t want to hear it. You have no idea what it’s like. You’re the one who’s married.”

Everyone froze in shock as naked violence danced in Dick’s eyes and radiated from his body. The psychic energy caused pain to flare in Brian’s forehead and chest as his heart beat wildly and adrenaline coursed through his veins. Dick shot to his feet and abruptly left the house.

“What’s his problem?” Amy asked. “You’d think when he went through as many women as he does that he would be used to being dumped by now.”

“He’s always been emotionally volatile,” Teresa said with distaste.

“It’s nothing we haven’t seen before. He’ll be fine tomorrow,” Paul said decisively.

Teresa, Amy, and Derek nodded in agreement. They decided to watch a movie but exhaustion quickly settled in on Brian and he went to bed early. As soon as he fell asleep, he dreamed of Samantha and her three colleagues; Brandon, Norman, and Ashley. The four of them sat at a flimsy card table in a white, dusty room with their equipment and supplies hastily dumped on the counter. Four syringes lay at the center of the table. Samantha’s blond hair was slightly disheveled and her icy blue eyes intently locked onto each of the three colleagues as though emphasizing a point. Ashley couldn’t hold the gaze and looked down at her hands.

“Are you sure this is a wise idea?” Norman finally said.

“Of course, I’m sure. This facility is only a backup. We don’t have the space here to conduct further trials. We don’t receive enough funding to start again. Furthermore, our time is up,” Samantha said.

“What do you mean?” Norman asked sharply.

“Project Onyx wasn’t meant to last this long and our benefactor has lost patience. He informed me a couple of months ago that next month is our last. If we don’t succeed, we will be given other assignments and they won’t be fun. No one we’re working with will know what project we were working on but they’ll know we failed because we fell from top-secret clearance to low-level clearance,” Samantha said.