The Thought Pushers (Mind Dimensions #2)(73)

“Fuck!” Thomas fumbles with the lock. “I told you she’d be a liability.”

I frantically unbuckle my seatbelt to go after her.

“Stop her,” Thomas barks at Hillary as he finally unlocks the doors. “You’re the only one who can.”

“I can’t,” Hillary objects. “She’s got a gun. She could shoot a civilian if I try to use them.”

“This is not the time for pacifism.” I don’t see the expression on my aunt’s face, but I hear Thomas curse and then say, “Fine. Improvise something. You there, hand me that rifle—”

I don’t hear Eugene’s response because I open the door and start running after Mira. Immediately, I’m reminded of the fact that I’m no longer in the Quiet. The cars around us are moving at full speed, and I almost get run over twice before I reach the sidewalk. When I hear screeching brakes, I attempt to phase in, but it’s futile. I can’t go into the Quiet.

I’ve been Inert less than five minutes, and I already hate it.

“I was barely able to control that last car, you know,” a cab driver says cryptically from his window as I run past him. He’s wearing a turban and speaking with a slight Indian accent. I’m pretty sure I’ve never met him. “You’re my blood relative, Darren, and I desperately want you to live. Please be careful.”

My attention shifts from the strange cabby to the road I just crossed as I hear loud honking, followed by a thump. Glancing back, I see Eugene on the ground in front of a car. My heart skips a beat, but I don’t stop.

I have to get to Mira.

As I get close to the bridge, I see a crowd of people rushing toward me. It must be Hillary’s improvised Guided evacuation. Here and there, I notice familiar faces—people I’d Read and Guided myself.

At my approach, the crowd parts, leaving a wide path for me. It’s odd, but it serves me, so I don’t question it.

“Darren, hurry, she’s almost there,” says an old lady as I run onto the boardwalk-like portion of the bridge.

“It’s me, Hillary, by the way,” a little kid says as he runs by me. “Why do you look so shocked?”

Now I get it. The cabby, the old lady, the people giving me room to run, and now the kid. Hillary is Guiding these people to aid me, and she’s giving me messages through them. I’d be very impressed if I weren’t in such a panic.

Then I hear tires screech behind me again.

“A car almost hit Thomas. He’s okay, though. Still running your way. Eugene is also okay; he just hurt his leg. He might not make it there in time,” the buff guy with PTSD says as I pass by him.

Before I get a chance to feel reassured, there is a strange wail. At least a hundred people all around the bridge scream in unison like some hellish chorus, “No, Mira, don’t!”

And then the people in front of me fall to the ground. What makes that move extra-spooky is that they do it simultaneously, like they were all stricken with some deadly poison at the exact same moment.

This gives me a clear view of what’s about the happen—a view that explains why Hillary made them do that. She wouldn’t give so many civilians bruises without good cause.

On the far end of the bridge, I see two large men fighting. Fighting to the death, by the looks of it.

One of them I recognize instantly. It’s Arkady, the psychopath from the banya. He must be under Hillary’s control. The other one is Sam.

The fury that gripped me earlier returns as I see Sam holding the same knife that he threw at Mira in the Quiet.

And then I register what Mira is doing.

This is what Hillary wanted me so desperately to see.

Mira is aiming her gun at the two fighting men.

In that instant, I also take in the rest of the scene. On the ground next to Sam and Arkady, two of Arkady’s men are holding down Jacob. The rest of the mobsters, including the one who tried to shoot me the other day, are lying on the ground bleeding. Those must’ve been the shots we heard. The gangsters were probably shot trying to get Sam’s and Jacob’s guns away from them—and it looks like they succeeded.

“Mira, there is no need to kill anyone!” Arkady screams as he continues wrestling with Sam. Hillary must be speaking through his mouth as well.

Sam grunts and yells out in response, “Mira, stop him, and you and your brother will be welcomed with open arms in our community! This man is being controlled by a powerful Pusher. I need your help. Jacob needs your help. Shoot him! Now!”

“It’s you I’m going to kill first, not him,” Mira hisses, her aim unwavering. “And Jacob—I’m going to make him suffer.” And with that, she squeezes the trigger.

At the deafening gunshot blast, Sam rapidly twists his body, and it’s Arkady’s head that explodes into little pieces instead of his own.

As I watch all this, I continue running.

Mira, unfazed by her miss, shoots at Sam. To my horror, Sam does the rolling thing he did in the Quiet. Only he does it even faster, avoiding Mira’s bullet with uncanny precision. He seems to have started moving before Mira even squeezed the trigger. And then I understand: he can phase into the Quiet. He must be using that ability to anticipate Mira’s movements.

Mira begins to back away toward me, still shooting in Sam’s direction. Sam rolls again and stabs one of the Russians who are holding Jacob. There is a loud scream as his knife connects with the gangster’s shoulder.