The Elders (Mind Dimensions #4)(5)

My heart sinks. I didn’t make it. He’s already dead, which means he’s now Inert.

A part of me says, Oh well. Maybe it’s for the best.

Then Mira stands up and aims her gun at him.

I was wrong. She must’ve discovered that he still has a pulse and decided she wants it gone. She wants him Inert.

It’s not clear to me why I do what I do next.

With my body screaming in agony, I leap for my frozen self.

I fall a foot away from me/him. I’m certain I just broke something else, as the pain is incredible. On the bright side, I feel on the brink of phasing, but I hit that mental wall again. If I could climb over it, I’d reach Level 2. Then again, I’ve hit this wall before with zero results.

Mira hears me move and her big eyes widen in a ‘are you insane’ kind of look. Then her eyes narrow in realization.

“Idiot,” she says and removes the gun’s safety.

No Level 2 this time, I think and extend my shaking right hand, snaking it under my frozen self’s pant leg to touch the ankle. I feel the hairy leg under my fingers, and all my pain dissipates.

The sounds of the world return, and in the next moment, after I phase back in, everything is still again.

I’m back in the Quiet and all the injuries Thomas inflicted on me are gone, as are Thomas’s shot-up body and Mira.

I let myself reflect on the fact that I didn’t hear Mira’s gunshot, which means Thomas isn’t Inert. Yay?

I debate bringing her in, but decide against it. She’s probably pissed at me for thwarting her plan. I don’t want to deal with that right now, not until I secure the area.

I walk to where my moms are standing. Even though I’m about to neutralize the cops as a threat, I Guide my moms to get on the ground in case my Guiding doesn’t go according to plan, and in case Thomas has a gun hidden where I couldn’t find it. I’m certain he doesn’t, since he would’ve used it to shoot me when he was attacking me, but when it comes to my family, I err on the side of caution. For good measure, I make sure they won’t notice if any shooting starts. They’re to ignore any violence that occurs in the next few minutes. I don’t care if my moms experience slight amnesia; safety comes first. With any luck, they’ll think they zoned out because of the priest’s monotone voice.

Knowing my moms will be safely on the ground, I approach the uniformed officers.

I find two female cops and Guide them to walk toward us, get on the ground, and cover my moms with their bodies. It may be overkill, but better safe than sorry.

I then approach every officer and give the following Guiding instructions: You will not reach for your weapon. You will not move from this spot for the next twenty minutes. You are absorbed with emotions of loss, and you will not pay attention to anything but the ceremony. You are solemnly observing a few minutes of silence for the fallen hero.

I give similar ‘ignore the world and don’t move’ instructions to the rest of the civilian-clothed cops, as well as to the priest and the guys with rifles.

When it comes to the Quarterback and a couple of other bigger-looking dudes, I give them a few extra instructions.

Happy with my progress thus far, I walk back to my body and phase out.

As soon as the world comes back to life, I phase in and out of the Quiet every fraction of a second to make sure the cops aren’t reaching for their weapons anymore.

To my huge relief, on the fifth check, I find that they aren’t.

I phase out of the Quiet again.

“Area secured,” I whisper to Mira as soon as the sounds of the world return. “But just in case, be ready for anything.”

She doesn’t reply. I guess the incident in the Quiet garnered me the silent treatment. Instead of worrying about Mira’s mood, I focus on my surroundings. After counting exactly two Mississippis, I spot movement in the direction of the cops.

I also see Thomas taking a step toward me, the beginnings of a run.

I return to the Quiet to make sure my extra Guiding worked. It did. The movement I saw in the corner of my eye was indeed my doing. I phase out and focus on Thomas.

He’s running in earnest.

The blur of movement coming from the crowd of cops gets closer.

Thomas is mere feet away from us when the Quarterback smacks into him with all the grace of a horny rhinoceros. I don’t know that much about football, but this looks like great work to me. Thomas flies into the air—far into the air—and lands in the dirt that’s destined to go on top of Kyle’s casket. I hope the dirt softened his landing and try not to feel too guilty about what I made the Quarterback do to him.

My guilt increases as the Quarterback falls on top of Thomas. He’s keeping my friend down until I can figure out what the hell is happening. The other larger officers form a makeshift human pyramid on top of them. As I recall from when this sort of thing happened to me, this doesn’t hurt the person on the bottom too much.

Granted, this happened to me back in kindergarten.

Suddenly, my world is filled with pain so visceral that my eyes water. Air escapes my lungs with an audible whoosh.

Trying to comprehend what’s happening to me, I realize with a shudder that the pain is coming from my most treasured and intimate of places.

I focus on inhaling air and not falling, and at the same time, I phase into the Quiet.

Oh, the sweet relief. The pain is instantly gone. Its absence highlights just how bad it really was, and I feel as though I’ve been given a shot of morphine.