The Elders (Mind Dimensions #4)(11)

Usually, I would be marveling at my surroundings. Though I’ve ridden bikes in the Quiet before, I’ve never ridden on a congested highway like this. There’s a certain charm to doing things I’d never dare to do in the real world. But I can’t enjoy this ride, not when all I can concentrate on is the mantra repeating in my head: Please don’t be in the vans.

I ride on and on, feeling as though I’m in the Tour de France.

Finally, in the distance, I see two vans with the symbol of a shiny H inside a square.

I ride up to them and jump off the bike, letting it fall with that chains-on-asphalt noise.

Peeking inside van number one with trepidation, I get my first dose of disillusionment.

The monks have Mira and Thomas.

My friends appear to be sleeping. I don’t dare touch them, as that would bring them into the Quiet with me, and I’m not sure whether the Super Pusher’s instructions are still in effect. The last thing I want is to fight them. Then again, the chances of them still being under the Super Pusher’s influence are small, if Eugene’s theory on the matter is correct. He thinks that Reading or Guiding someone from Level 2 will expend that person’s Depth much quicker than normal. Mimir—the strange being who resulted from my Joining with the Enlightened—suggested the same thing when we spoke in Level 2.

Reading the monks doesn’t yield any results, aside from the same useless meditative white noise I got from them at the Temple and at the airport.

I’m so stunned that I can’t admit how bad things are, at least not until I get the full picture.

I carefully walk up to the second Honda and open the side door to look inside.

They have Lucy in the front, strapped in with a seatbelt, with Sara set up similarly in the back. Just like Mira and Thomas, my moms look as though they’re sleeping.

I give them a quick Read. Sure enough, the last thing they remember is a needle prick. Caleb must’ve drugged them the way he drugged me when he abducted me from the hotel in Miami.

In frustration, I drag a frozen monk out of the car and give him a couple of kicks to the face.

The exercise only makes me angrier.

I take a breath and try to think rationally, searching for any kind of silver lining. The best I can come up with is that at least they don’t have those black bags over their heads.

Nope, that doesn’t help at all. I kick the limp monk in the ribs a few more times and then take a few more calming breaths before contemplating my options.

With Caleb here, in Mira and Thomas’s van, I’m tempted to pull him in and take out my frustrations on someone more animated than my monk-shaped punching bag.

But no. As therapeutic as it would be, I dismiss the idea. Even if by some miracle I manage to kill Caleb in the Quiet, what would that accomplish? He’d still be here on the highway, and I’d still be miles away in the cemetery. I could Guide the surrounding drivers to stall the progress of the vans, but even that wouldn’t help; the resulting traffic would also slow down my pursuit.

Then it hits me. I don’t need to follow them because I already know where they’re headed; it’s as obvious as why they’re doing this in the first place. Caleb and his monk posse took everyone as a means to ensure I come to them, to the Temple.

They want to force me to comply with my grandparents’ crazy demands.

Just thinking about that makes me so angry I almost want to pursue them on my own and do something desperate. Then I take a deep breath and force myself to calm down. I need to act with my brain and not my testosterone.

I jump on the borrowed bike and pedal my way back to my body.

As I do, I can’t help but dwell on all the different ways I’ll make my grandparents regret this kidnapping. And if something happens to Mira, Thomas, or my moms . . .

Let’s just say this very first funeral I’ve attended won’t be my last.





*





By the time I find my way back to my frozen body, I’m officially sick of cycling. I will add a cycling class to that extra workout regimen I’m planning to implement in the future. I’m sure with practice I’ll be able to tolerate doing it for longer periods.

My frozen self looks horrible. I’m dirty, and my black suit is torn in places. I’m pretty sure my skin underneath is scraped and bruised.

Bracing myself, I touch my face and phase out.

As soon as the world comes alive, the physical exertion I felt in the Quiet becomes child’s play compared to what I’m feeling in the real world. With all the cycling, I managed to forget I was hit by a car.

Yeah, I’m definitely scraped and bruised.

Despite the futility of it, I’m again tempted to chase after the vans, but the rational part of me tells me not to be impulsive. I need to consult with my non-kidnapped friends. They’re a smart bunch, and they’ll know what to do. Plus, Eugene deserves to know what happened to his sister.

Back in my ‘aunt’s’ car, I enter Eugene’s lair’s address into my phone’s GPS.

On a whim, as I’m driving, I search for Caleb’s number, which is listed as Mr. Personality. Not feeling jovial enough for a voice command, I simply press the touch screen to initiate the call.

I’m shocked when he actually picks up.

“Hello,” he says, and I can almost visualize that annoying smirk I’d love to beat off his face.