The Enlightened (Mind Dimensions #3)(23)

“There really ought to be a road leading to the Temple,” I hear Caleb saying across the car to Grandpa, who’s on my side, just a couple of feet away.

Paul replies with something along the lines of ‘stop bitching.’ I don’t register the exact details of the conversation because of my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

As though in slow motion, I step toward Paul, who’s looking at Caleb and not paying me any attention. At that moment, Caleb turns to look at something on the road, and I make my move, jamming the gun into Paul’s back.

“Don’t you dare move,” I whisper in his ear.

“Darren,” he says, clearly shocked.

“Shut up,” I whisper. “Or I’ll f*cking shoot you.”

His body sags against my gun, shoulders drooping. He doesn’t say anything else, so I take it as a sign of capitulation and whisper, “Now tell Caleb to go lie on the ground where I can see him.”

“Caleb,” Paul says, his voice quivering more than I would’ve expected. “Go lie on the road. Now.”

“What?” Caleb turns, frowning. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s got a gun to my back,” Paul says, and I jam the gun in harder, causing him to stop explaining.

Caleb’s arm moves toward his vest. Shit. He’s reaching for his gun.

“Drop it, Caleb,” I order, moving my gun down to press against Paul’s leg. “Or I’ll show you how serious I am.”

“Do as he says, and lie on the ground behind the car,” Paul barks. He clearly doesn’t think I’m bluffing, even though, to be honest, I might be. “Do it, Caleb. This is not a request.”

Caleb’s features darken. I see him fighting the urge to do something heroic. Please don’t, I will him. Suddenly, Caleb reaches a decision and gingerly walks over to the middle of the road. I assume Paul phased into the Quiet and convinced him to play ball. I guess Grandpa doesn’t doubt my determination.

When Caleb gets far enough away, he slowly, almost lazily, lies down on the ground a few feet away from the back of the car.

“Get that rope,” I tell Paul, pointing to the back of the car where there’s a bundle of rope. I think it’s the very rope Caleb used to tie me with. Payback’s a bitch.

As Paul gets the rope, I press the gun more firmly into his back and keep Caleb in my peripheral vision. The big guy isn’t moving.

“Now tie his hands,” I order Paul as we approach Caleb.

As Paul bends down, I see a blur of movement and realize my mistake.

I underestimated Caleb’s reach.

As Caleb’s fingers close around my ankle, I shift my balance in a desperate maneuver and push Paul at Caleb. The old man falls on the big guy with an undignified shriek.

He’ll be okay, I tell my conscience to alleviate the pang of guilt. It’s not like he fell from a height.

As Caleb deals with a sudden armful of wriggling Grandpa, I stomp on Caleb’s right wrist to free myself. This part is completely guilt-free. I even savor it. When Caleb still doesn’t let go, I stomp on his arm harder, like I would try to squash a huge spider.

His fingers finally release my leg.

I step back a few feet, aiming my gun at Paul’s leg, and tell him in a ragged breath, “I’ll count to ten. If Caleb’s hands aren’t firmly tied behind his back, I will put a bullet in your kneecap. One...”

Paul rolls away from Caleb, stands up on shaking legs, and fumbles to pick up the rope he dropped when I pushed him.

“If I hear you say anything, I will also shoot,” I say to reestablish my authority. They could phase out at any moment and have long conversations without me knowing, but I doubt it would help them.

“Two,” I say as the old man gets the rope. “Three... four...” I stretch out every second, trying to time it so I won’t actually have to shoot anyone. “Ten,” I finish when I’m convinced Caleb’s hands have been thoroughly tied. “Good. Now give me his phone.”

When Paul brings me the phone, I motion with the gun toward the car and tell him, “Get behind the wheel.”

“Why do you need to take me?” Paul protests, giving me a disgruntled look. “Just tie me up and leave.”

“Nice try, Grandpa,” I say. “You might’ve already Split to alert the Temple. They could be on their way to stop me as we speak. No, thanks. If you’re with me, any surprises we might come across will have consequences for us both.”

I see a tiny glint in his eyes. Was it disappointment or something else? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was pride. Was he impressed by me acting like a conniving bastard? Does the knowledge that he passed on one of his personality traits give him a warm, fuzzy feeling?

“Get in through the passenger side so I can keep the gun on you,” I instruct him, and without complaining, the old man complies.

Climbing over the seats looks difficult for him, and I feel another slight pang of guilt. But I quickly squash the feeling. Paul got himself into this mess. I would’ve been happy to continue my vacation and not be dragged into all this. My abduction, carried out under his orders, created the chain of events that culminated in his current discomfort.

“You’ll regret this,” Caleb tells me as I climb into the car.

Instead of responding, I slam the passenger door with such force that some of the paint chips off the Honda. Paul cringes, having been startled by it.