The Elders (Mind Dimensions #4)(4)

“That’s a great idea,” I say and walk up to Thomas. He’ll explain what’s what.

I hear Mira say, “Wait,” but I’m already touching Thomas’s neck.

Immediately, a second version of him shows up in the Quiet.

He looks around without the usual confusion people get when they’re suddenly pulled into the Quiet, and when his gaze falls on Mira, he doesn’t react at all. That’s weird.

Then he glances at me.

His eyes look as though they’ve zoomed in on their target, all Terminator-like.

Without blinking, he silently walks toward me.

“Thomas, you won’t believe what’s happening—”

My words are rudely interrupted by Thomas’s fist hitting me in the mouth. I taste the metallic tang of blood, and all I can think about is what Mira will say in her most vindictive tone: “I f*cking told you so.”





Chapter 2





“Thomas!” I block his attempt to hit my Adam’s apple. “What the hell?”

In answer, Thomas kicks my shin. With all my talking and confusion, I didn’t see the kick coming, and damn it, it hurt. The mixture of betrayal, incredulity, and resurfacing anger intensifies the pain.

As Thomas moves to attack me again, I swerve out of the punch, but something else distracts me, something relevant to the fight at hand. A part of me—the part that’s been waking up during fights ever since I Joined with Caleb inside the head of the Israeli martial arts guru—registers that Thomas’s ‘interesting’ fighting style is Hapkido-inspired.

As if to confirm my guess, Thomas grabs my arm as I move to hit him in the stomach, and overextends my elbow joint. An eruption of pain instantly follows. Then he throws me over his shoulder. Two Hapkido classics, I think as I sail through the air.

As I’m about to hit the ground, the world slows a little, so I have some hope as I try, yet again, to phase into Level 2 of the Quiet. My fight with Thomas has recreated the conditions of my last phasing to a T: if I land on my head, I will break my neck and die.

I hit the ground. Air rushes out of my lungs as I land on my back rather than on my head. Clearly, nothing happened as far as Level 2 phasing is concerned. The only result of my fall is the excruciating pain in my tailbone.

“You will stop, Pusher.” Mira’s voice is cold and commanding. “Now.”

Were she addressing me, I’d strongly consider stopping.

I try to say, “Listen to her,” while I begin rolling over onto my stomach, but what comes out is a hiss as Thomas kicks me in my exposed side.

A gunshot rings out.

Thomas’s body falls on top of me.

Is he dead? I’m torn between the hope that she did shoot him, which would stop the fight, and not wanting Thomas to get hurt, because, well, it’s Thomas. I haven’t yet accepted that he’s attempting to kill me for real; I could think of another explanation if people would just stop kicking my ass.

When he grabs me in a headlock, I realize I was wrong—wrong about him being dead and wrong about his fighting style. This is more of an Aikido headlock. What I also know about this lock is that once you’re in it, you’re usually done for.

“Darren, stay still,” Mira says.

All I manage is an affirmative grunt. That done, I pretend like I’m choosing not to move in order to comply with her request.

She fires another shot.

Warm liquid sprays all over my body, and Thomas’s hold on me slackens.

I try to move, but I’m not ready for that yet.

Mira puts the gun’s safety back on and fumbles with Thomas’s body, rolling him off me. I immediately feel lighter.

“Are you okay?” She gently touches my face.

“How do I look?” I ask and spit blood. I wiggle a tooth with my tongue. That’s not good. Teeth are usually stable, unmovable objects.

“You look . . . disturbing. Let’s get you out of here.”

Cringing, I half crawl, half turn so I’m next to Thomas, and then I feel for his pulse.

The heartbeat is there, though faint. His breathing is ragged, and I’m not sure how long he has.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” I frisk Thomas for guns or any clue as to why he attacked me. No luck. “Unless I phase out, Thomas will be Inert.”

“You’ve got to be f*cking kidding me,” she says. “You’d rather he make you Inert?”

“No, but—” I crawl away from him, toward my frozen self’s body.

“He tried to kill you, probably to prevent you from overriding your would-be killers.” She nods in the direction of the cops. “Something you should actually do, by the way, and as soon as possible.”

She’s right. If Thomas made me Inert, those cops would’ve shot me in the real world, which reminds me that she’s also right about this second point.

I need to stop all these cops from shooting me. I only have a few moments to phase out and back in again. A few moments that would buy me the chance to reset my injuries, as well as Thomas’s. The cops’ hands are far enough from their guns to allow me this luxury.

Deciding that crawling isn’t efficient enough, I get up, even though doing so makes me feel as if I’ve suddenly aged three centuries.

Mira turns toward Thomas, drops to a crouch, and checks his pulse. She looks unhappy with what she finds.