The Elders (Mind Dimensions #4)(85)

The irrational part of me that’s preventing my finger from pulling the trigger is a hypocrite.

Still, I can’t do it. I can’t shoot someone who deserves it. If these injuries don’t kill me, I’ll need to visit my shrink. Some wires have clearly gotten crossed inside my head.

Frustrated, I mimic George’s earlier maneuver and use the gun as a club. I hit him on the head, knocking him out. Nothing stopped me from doing that.

I aim the gun again, hoping that without him staring at me, I’ll be able to do what I must, but my finger refuses to budge.

All of a sudden, a shadow crosses us.

“Let go of the gun, kid,” Caleb says. He’s pointing a pistol at me.

Clubbing George zapped the last of my strength. Actually, I might’ve borrowed some energy from my future. I can’t even imagine raising the gun to aim it at Caleb, so I drop it. Not like I was going to fire it anyway.

Caleb aims and fires. Blood and brain splatter everywhere. Given that I can see the resulting gore, I obviously wasn’t Caleb’s target.

“He was too dangerous.” Caleb sounds almost apologetic. Did Caleb of all people also have reservations about killing George? “No one should be able to Push a Reader.”

He steps closer, looming directly over me. He proceeds to aim his pistol straight down, at my forehead. Now I understand the reason for his apologetic tone.

It’s killing me that’s giving him pause.

Apparently, it’s possible to be too worn out for self-preservation because I don’t do anything other than watch him.

His face looks torn. Did I look that way a minute ago? Is growing a conscience contagious?

“If you pull that trigger, I’ll take your head,” a female voice says—a voice I recognize as Kate’s. A sliver of metal appears alongside Caleb’s neck.

I should be worried about getting a bullet to the head, but all I can think is: how did she sneak up on Caleb? Given the man’s reflexes, that’s no easy task.

Kate gently moves her blade, generating a streak of blood across Caleb’s neck. “Let go of the gun. Now.”

Caleb smirks and obeys.

The gun falls on my head, and everything finally goes black.





Chapter 28





I wake up to numbness.

I try to phase into the Quiet, but it doesn’t work.

Of course it doesn’t, I recall with a jolt. I’m Inert.

I open my eyes, find the room too bright, and close them again.

“I think he just blinked,” a voice says. The voice sounds a lot like Thomas’s.

“Darren, are you awake?” asks a soft, pleasant female voice that I instantly recognize as Mira’s.

I squint at them. Mira is sitting next to me on the bed. Her hand is on mine, but with all the warm numbness, I didn’t feel it until this moment. Her clothes are different. I think she’s wearing a man’s shirt, but by undoing a few of the top buttons, she’s definitely made it her own.

Thomas is sitting in a chair next to a bunch of hospital machines. His hands are bandaged, but he otherwise seems okay.

I open my eyes wider. All the medical equipment next to Thomas is hooked up to me, as is the IV bag hanging next to Mira’s head.

I feel the slightly uncomfortable sensation of an oxygen assist in my nose. Even with the assist, I need extra air, so I take in a deep breath and regret it instantly. The numbness gives way to pain in my side.

“Can you get the doctor or a nurse?” Mira asks Thomas. She must’ve seen me cringe. “They should give him more pain medication.”

Thomas walks out. Did he look guilty as he got up?

“I’m in the hospital.” This is a mix of a question and a statement, demonstrating the sort of wit that only painkillers can inspire. As I speak, I learn that talking hurts too. Also, my speech sounds slurred, even to my overmedicated ears.

“Yes.” Mira brushes the tips of her fingers across my cheek. “Eugene called. He told me how you saved me . . . again.”

Bracing against the pain, I ask, “Are he and Bert—”

“They’re on their way here,” she says.

“How long has it been?” I speak more softly, and it hurts less.

“I’m not sure.” She looks at her phone. “A few hours.”

“Is George—”

Kate walks into the room, incongruently accompanied by Rose.

“George is dead,” Kate says, her face as expressionless as Thomas’s usually is. “Didn’t you see Caleb shoot him?”

I look from Kate to Rose, who, to my surprise, is looking me over with genuine concern. Do I have to be this beat-up to trigger her grandmotherly instincts?

“Yeah, I saw,” I say, realizing Kate is waiting for an answer. “I just needed to be sure. I wasn’t exactly in the best shape . . .”

“You’re not exactly in great shape now.” Kate smiles. “But yes, the only way George could be deader is if I’d gotten to him first.”

“And James?” I decide to keep my breaths shallow; the pain in my side is increasing. “I didn’t get a chance to override him.”

“I figured as much.” Kate’s smile fades. “He was the reason George managed to escape.”

“No, I mean, is he alive?” A sharp stab in my side reminds me that I forgot to speak softly.