The Thought Readers (Mind Dimensions #1)(51)



The experience in this case is pretty simple. ‘Pick up the phone’ is the first step. The Pusher seems to almost play out a fake memory for his target. Every detail of how it would be to pick up the phone is considered: which hand, the weight of the phone in his hand, and so on.

Next comes the instruction: ‘Text all the trusted people with a request to meet at Tatyana Restaurant in an hour.’

Finally, Piotr is instructed to get up and go there himself.

After that, the Pusher’s presence disappears. Based purely on the person’s presence in this mind, I can’t tell whether it was male or female. To my disappointment, whoever it was never came into physical contact with Piotr.

I Read Piotr’s mind a little longer. I’m curious what he’ll recall of the Pusher influence. As I expected, he remembers nothing. He arrives at the restaurant, slightly amused. Isn’t it strange how sometimes you drive someplace, but don’t even remember the driving process? he thinks.

It seems like the Pusher’s influence has caused a mild memory lapse in the target’s mind, but overall Piotr acts as though of his own volition. It’s interesting to watch how he rationalizes his actions as happening of his own choosing and his memory lapse as one of those times when the conscious mind goes on autopilot and the subconscious takes over. The illusion of free will at its finest. It comes to me all over again how dangerous these Pushers are. Whatever they need done, all they need to do is plant the seed in someone’s mind.

Mind-rape, Eugene called it. Now I understand why.

Knowing I won’t get any more than this, I decide to jump out of Piotr’s mind. People are waiting for me.



*



When I’m conscious again, Caleb is standing next to me looking like he’s about to say something snide. I just head for the exit, explaining where Mira is as I move. The group follows.

“That’s perfect,” Caleb says when I finish my explanation. “If they’re that far inside the building, they definitely won’t hear my shots.”

“Did any one of you Read a guy whose name was Arkady in there?” I ask. No one responds, so I assume they haven’t.

We return to the room across the street, on the top floor near the window. Our frozen bodies are hunched near Caleb, who’s lying on the floor with his eye to the scope of his rifle. I touch my forehead.

As soon as the phase-out process is complete, Caleb fires the first shot.

Then another.

Then another.

I lose count of the shots, as I’m more focused on plugging my ears. In the movies, silencers work much better than in real life. Despite the elongated device on the end of the barrel of Caleb’s rifle, the noise is deafening in this room. I hope the area is abandoned enough that no one hears the shots—or if they do and call the cops, we’re out of here before they arrive.

His shooting done, Caleb pushes off the floor to a standing position.

“Now things should go more smoothly in there,” he says, picking up his gun. Wiping down his prints, he leaves the rifle behind and heads for the stairs.

We follow him all the way down to the ground level of the building we’ve just fired the shots from.

“Darren, take us into the Mind Dimension again,” Caleb orders before we exit to the street. “We need to assess the situation.”

“Okay, Sergeant,” Julia says sarcastically. “Before we go running around again, can you please tell us the plan?”

“The plan will become clearer after we reconnoiter,” Caleb says curtly. “The only thing I can tell you now is that with two armed guards in the room with Mira, stealth is of utmost importance. If I were them, I’d shoot the hostage as soon as I caught wind that some shit was going down.”

Eugene looks pale, and a shudder runs through me. Without further ado, I phase into the Quiet once again and get everyone to join me.

We cross the street. I’m getting a sense of déjà vu. The door is locked again, which of course makes sense, but is no less annoying.

“Now you can practice picking the lock,” Caleb says to Julia. “We want to be in as quickly as we can.”

She goes inside her messenger bag and takes out what I assume are the instruments of a professional burglar. I wonder where she learned to do this. Her people seem too ritzy for thieving.

She struggles with the door for only a minute before we’re in.

“Will you be able to do this faster when we actually get here?” Caleb asks.

“Yes. I can get it down to twenty seconds,” she says.

We enter the hangar we inspected before. Though I’m not surprised by what I see, my gag reflex kicks in, and I barely hold back vomit.

They’re all dead. Shot in the head, every single one of them. There’s blood, lots of blood everywhere. Though it’s my second time seeing a scene like this today, it’s not in any way less disturbing.

Julia looks green too, making me feel a bit better about my own sorry state.

Caleb steps over the bodies in his way and just waltzes to the stairs. We gingerly follow, trying to keep our eyes off the dead people.

After a few flights of stairs, we reach a floor that appears to be the one we’re searching for. We follow Caleb into the maze of corridors, which, according to Lenya’s—the disgusting gorilla’s—memories, leads to the room where Mira is held.

Dima Zales's Books