Fatal Strike (McClouds & Friends #10)(29)

The giddy rush of possibility made her stomach flop.

Freedom. Of a kind, at least. Or maybe they’d finally driven her over the edge, and this was a psychotic break. Maybe she was just so toxic from the accumulated drug, she was still high from the last injection. But who knew? If she could go, right now, at will . . . with no Anabel or Greaves piggybacking . . .

And stay there. Just stay there for-f*cking-ever. Oh God, yes.

She lay down. Her body vibrated. She’d never be able to get herself into the right place if she was so jittery. She started relaxing every muscle, breathing deeply. She waited. Concentrated. Nothing.

Tears of frustration streamed down her face, trickling into her ears. She did not allow herself to brush them away, as if her hands were bound. She pictured it all . . . the gurney, the needle . . .

Suddenly, she felt it—the rush, the double vision, not that she could see in the dark. A doubled perception of darkness. The pull . . .

Panicky joy scrambled it. Back in the flat darkness again.

She wiped away tears of frustration, and tried again. Visualizing blinding light, buckled straps straining tight against wrists, ankles, forehead. Hu’s grim face. Anabel’s glare. The sting of the needle.

Yes. That did it.

The pull sucked her in, spun her through inner space. Her mind spangled that space with stars, shreds of cloud. Soaring.

Brief glimpses. The little blond boy, his eyes huge with fear. The green duffel bag on the train, heavy with menace. The fountain, the statue, the sleepwalkers. She ignored them all, racing through the mist.

There it was. Formidable, thick, steampunk beautiful. She no longer had to think about the choreography. It was a dance of pure joy.

She was in, and she was never leaving this place again. Fuck them all. Let her physical body waste away in a coma or die. Who cared?

Nobody, but nobody, could make her leave this place.





Miles swerved on the road, and corrected, his heart pounding. That Lara dream again, running even while his eyes were wide open and staring through the windshield at westbound Interstate I-84, right after the Gresham exit. Her graceful form danced inside his inner sanctum. Not a dream, or a fantasy. He could feel her, fierce and bright. Intensely female. A palpable sensation. Not an unpleasant one. By no means.

He waited, breathless and tense, for her to get around to typing a message. Trying to ignore his body’s stupid animal reaction to this cerebral form of intimacy. The road rushed by. His teeth ground. His heart thudded.

u there? she finally tapped out, after an agonizing interval.

where the fck have u been? It pounded out of him, pressurized. iv been w8ting 4 hours!

There was a pause, then, 4 me?? u told me I wsn’t even real!

but u r real, right? he demanded.

yes unfortunately

good thats settled then he typed. u in trouble?

yes

locked up?

yes

ok then let’s stop f*cking around and get u out of there. I cant take this shit anymore

There was a tooth-grinding pause, and then, wow. what a switch. i have whiplash now. ur sweet but I don’t think its possible

Sweet, his ass. let me b the judge of that he pounded out. just give me data to crunch

thats the thing. no data. I’m locked in a cell. outside there r hills. they shoot me up every night. thats when I visit u.

experiments? psi-max? he queried.

ive heard them call it that

u high on it now?

no. this is the first time ive flown w/o the drug. dont know if its good or bad. maybe im just crazy now.

join the club he told her. i dont care. give me info.

like what?

anything for fck sake he replied. where r u? who do u c?

mostly anabel and hu she replied. theyre the main ones

He whistled. anabel? hot blond psychopath? late 20s?

blond yes. dont know how hot she is. she’s cold 2 me.

tell me about hu.

1st name Jason. asian, late 30s, med height, buzzed hair, wire rim glasses. wife leah has esophageal cancer

wow he told u that?

no I saw it on a drug trip. the drug makes me c things.

He considered that for a moment. yikes

shes having a big operation early 2mrrw morning. hu tried to get time off from head honcho. no go. hu has 2 b there 4 my megadose xtravaganza. 2mrrw morning early. brrr

time off from who?

thaddeus greaves she typed. met him today. scary guy.

He ground his teeth in impotent anger. Bastard. Stonewalling him all along. that lying butthead. I knew he was dirty

u know the guy? how do u know all this? who r u?

L8r 4 me. lets focus, he told her. u ok?

He sensed the irony somewhere, as if she’d let out a crack of cynical laughter in his head. ok? what does that even mean?

forget i said it, he typed hastily. where’s the wife’s operation?

who knows? west of the rockies? just guessing tho. hospital name is Good Samaritan but every 2nd city in America has a Good Sam hsptl

lets narrow it down he typed. give me a picture of hu

A blank pause, and then what?

picture. photo he prompted. remember those?

how? He could feel her bafflement vibrating in his body.

send it via the computer he told her.

?? she typed.

He lost his patience. jesus lara ur the visual artist. look down. c the digital camera. I visualized one 4 u. pretend ur taking a pic of hu. attach cable to USB port behind computer. download.