The Thought Pushers (Mind Dimensions #2)(75)

I look back as we drive away and see people still running away from Brooklyn Bridge.





Chapter 29


As we drive uptown, I realize that I need to pull myself together. The drained feeling is overwhelming.

“I killed someone again,” I finally say, speaking to no one in particular. “I really didn’t want to.”

“Don’t feel bad about that,” Mira says. “That f*cker killed our parents. And possibly your parents, too. Besides, you just shot him. I’m the one who actually killed him.”

So Jacob wasn’t dead when Mira got there.

“I don’t know if that helps,” I say. “I knew him, you know. That makes it different, somehow.”

“You should talk to Liz once everything settles down,” Thomas recommends. “She can help.”

Yes, talk to my therapist. That would be a good start. But I need something else right now. Something more immediate.

I need some information and some time to think things through.

“Can someone please tell me who the hell those men were?” Thomas inquires. “The people we just killed. What the hell was all that about? They were some of yours, obviously . . . Some Leachers, weren’t they?”

“They were Readers,” I say, emphasizing the proper term. I don’t like double standards, and if Hillary and Thomas want to be called Guides rather than Pushers, they should return the favor. “The big bodyguard type you shot was one of their top security personnel, and the older, less-threatening-looking one that I killed—or Mira killed—was Jacob, that community’s leader.”

“Okay. But we came to get one of us—a rogue Guide,” Thomas says patiently. “What happened? How did you guys get it so wrong?”

“Darren, do you want to play the detective?” Mira suggests. “Your guess is going to be as good as mine.”

“Well,” I say slowly, trying to think through the fog still filling my mind, “it sounds like Jacob killed your family because of your father’s research. Because Jacob was a Purist, the research your father was doing might’ve been unacceptable to him.” That’s the only thing that makes sense to me, at least.

“What’s a Purist, and what is this research?” Thomas asks.

“Purists sound a lot like the Reader version of Traditionalists,” I explain, amazed to be the one who has the answers for once.

“And my brother’s research is none of Pushers’ business,” Mira says before her brother can start going into an explanation.

“But what about the Guide we went to see in the first place?” Hillary says, confused. “You’re saying there was no such Guide?”

“No,” I say. “That’s the weird part. Mira found signs of a Guide when she researched her parents’ murder. And she wasn’t the only one. I saw signs of a Guide when we were rescuing Mira the other day, and again when that nurse tried to kill me. That means that unequivocally, there’s one involved. Maybe he was working with Jacob?”

“Working together?” Hillary says. “I doubt our Traditionalists would even talk to a Reader, let alone work with one.”

“Same for our Purists,” Eugene says.

“Be that as it may, evidence seems to suggest otherwise,” I say. “In Arkady’s mind, I saw the Pusher erasing Arkady’s memories of Jacob sanctioning some hits. That would only make sense if they were working as a team.”

“If they did team up, it would be a hypocrisy of unbelievable proportions,” Hillary says. “Traditionalists are the very people who hate Readers the most, and I’m guessing the same applies to their Purist brethren.”

“Purists hate you people with an almost religious fervor,” Eugene confirms. “Working with a Pusher would be like making a deal with the devil for them.”

“Maybe these two joined forces to fight an even bigger devil,” I speculate. “A temporary alliance, perhaps? I mean, we saw today how powerful a team of Readers and Guides can be. Maybe they united for some common cause . . . like to kill me—the abomination.”

“I don’t know about that. After all, you didn’t exist to them until recently,” Eugene says. “Unless their union goes way back to your parents’ time—which is possible, I suppose. But getting rid of my father’s—and now my—research is a more likely motivation.”

“So you mean I’m not done.” Mira sounds more weary than angry. “You think there’s another person, a Guide, who had something to do with our parents’ death.”

“I think I speak for everyone when I say you can call that person a Pusher, Mira,” I say. “But my intuition tells me that Jacob is the one to blame for your parents’ death. After all, he was the one who ordered the hit on them.”

“You’re more than done, Mirochka,” Eugene chimes in. “You killed the people directly responsible for it. It’s time to move on. Start to live your life again.”

“He’s right,” I say. “Let Guides deal with that Traditionalist Pusher problem. Let me deal with it. Maybe it’s as simple as ratting out this Pusher to his fellow Traditionalists. They might not approve of his allegiances. What do you think, Hillary?”

“That could work. Let me think about that,” Hillary says pensively.