The Thought Readers (Mind Dimensions #1)(42)

We take the walk. I realize we’ll make it when we see the wall of the gated community that is our destination. Whether Sergey rams that car successfully or not, we can do this.

We’re a mere three blocks from where we need to be.

When we get back to the car, I phase back out.

I push the little rental to its limits. I’m going eighty, the tires screeching as I make the next turn. I hear the loud bang behind us and know that Sergey followed through with his plan; the Smart Car is probably toast by now.

It’s too late for our pursuers, though. We’ve reached the gate that separates us from our destination. I stop the car in the middle of the street and am about to phase into the Quiet when I’m pulled in instead by someone else.

“Eugene, you beat me to it,” I say when everything goes still. Only when I look to my right, I don’t see Eugene.

I see someone else—someone I’ve never met before.





Chapter 18


The guy is holding a huge military knife. Threateningly. I don’t know what to make of it, since we’re in the Quiet. I’m not sure what will happen to me if he uses the knife on me. Not that I care to find out. He doesn’t look like someone who makes idle threats. I make a mental note to find out the risk of death in the Quiet. I know injuries don’t stick. And yes, I cut myself to find out. Wouldn’t anyone? My shrink thought it was ‘interesting’ that I cut myself in my delusional world—I recall her talking some nonsense about the physical pain helping me deal with some fictitious emotional one.

“I’ve seen that one before,” the guy says, pointing the knife at frozen Eugene. “But who the f*ck are you?”

I gape at him. I don’t know what to make of his muscular build, short haircut, and military clothing. Is he some kind of Reader security guard?

“I’m only going to ask one more time,” he says, and I realize I didn’t respond to his question.

“My name is Darren,” I say quickly. “I guess I’m a Reader.”

“You guess?”

“Well, it’s new information to me, so I’m not used to announcing it. Eugene and Mira are the first Readers I’ve ever met.”

The guy’s eyebrows lift, and he unexpectedly chuckles. “I’ve got news for you. If what you say is true, then today—right now—is the first time you’ve met a real Reader. Few of the people inside consider the Tsiolkovsky orphans that.”

“You sound like you consider them Readers, though,” I say on a hunch.

“No one gives a rat’s ass what I think; I’m just a soldier. But I say if you can spend more than a second in the Mind Dimension and can Read a single thought, you’re a Reader. I’m a simple person with simple definitions, I guess. Who cares how you got to be that way?”

“That makes sense,” I say. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“You didn’t catch it because I didn’t give it,” the guy says, all traces of amusement gone. “It’s Caleb. And knowing my name isn’t going to help you, unless you have an explanation for what you and Eugene are doing here. This is private property.”

“His sister Mira was just kidnapped. Eugene barely escaped getting killed. There are men coming after us as we speak,” I try to explain. “Or at least they’ll be here once we leave the Mind Dimension.”

“How many?” he asks, coming to attention. The bit about Mira seems to have made an impression.

“There are five of them. They’re driving a Mercedes; they could be here any second.”

“What else should I know about them?” Caleb asks, his hand tightening on the knife.

“They’re some kind of a Russian gang or something. Sergey, two Borises—”

“I don’t give a shit what their names are,” Caleb interrupts me. “If they’re armed and heading this way, we won’t be bonding on that level.”

“Okay,” I say. I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“Stay here and don’t move. Sam and I have sniper rifles pointed at your heads. If you so much as sneeze, we’ll blow your brains out.”

I don’t have a clue who Sam is, but it doesn’t look like Caleb’s interested in answering questions right now. As I’m trying to come to grips with his threat, he leaves the car, and in a minute I’m forcefully phased out of the Quiet.

“Eugene, don’t move,” I say hurriedly. There’s a red laser dot on his chest, as though someone has a gun pointed at him—which is apparently the case.

“Why?” he asks, confused.

I phase back into the Quiet instead of answering. I’m afraid of even talking while someone is pointing a sniper rifle at me. What if Caleb thinks my lips moving qualifies as movement and shoots? When I find myself in the backseat again with the world silent, I pull Eugene in.

“I just spoke to some scary-looking dude who’s guarding this place. He pulled me in,” I explain.

“Did whoever it was say they’ll help?”

“Not exactly. He said not to move and that they have guns pointed at us.” I swallow. “I saw a laser pointer on you.”

“I see,” Eugene says, surprisingly calmly. “We’ll probably be okay. They’ll most likely go Read our pursuers to verify you told them the truth.”