The Thought Readers (Mind Dimensions #1)(53)

“What is it?” Eugene asks her.

“That f*ck isn’t here,” she says, punching the wall again.

“Who?” Eugene says.

“The Pusher. The one behind all this. That chicken shit’s not here. That was my main hope, the only silver lining to this. I thought he’d be overseeing the whole thing.”

“I Read a mind earlier,” I say. “The Pusher who influenced that mind was very careful to avoid revealing himself to his target.”

“Then this is pointless. You guys should go back and wait. Maybe he’ll show up eventually,” she says.

“That’s not happening,” Caleb says, standing between her and the wall she’s been punching. “Here is what is happening. You’ll try to be as loud as possible as soon as you hear any funny sounds coming from outside your door. Talk loudly, ask questions—or even better, fall from your chair. That would distract them and get you out of harm’s way.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t try to teach a fish how to swim,” she mutters. Then she takes a deep breath and glances at Eugene before turning her attention back to Caleb. “Look, even with those dead bodies I just saw downstairs, busting in here is going to be dangerous,” she says in a more even tone. “Promise me that Eugene won’t take part in this. They took me to smoke him out in the first place, so if you bring him, you’ll be playing right into their hands.”

“Yes, so he told us. We have a deal,” Caleb says before Eugene starts protesting. “I won’t force Eugene to come with us.”

Mira gives him a disbelieving look, but seems a bit calmer as we make our way back to the room. I get the feeling that there’s definite history between Mira and Caleb. I don’t like it, not one bit. Though it can’t be romantic, can it? He’s a little too old for her, and he called her ‘kid.’ Maybe it’s a bond between two kindred, sarcastic, pain-in-the-ass spirits?

When we rejoin her, Julia is still diligently practicing unlocking that lock.

Upon Caleb’s request, she does a final run, which is extremely quick. She’s way faster and much quieter than she was before. For the first time, I’m beginning to think we can pull this off.

“So what’s the exact plan?” I ask.

“While Julia works on the door, Mira falls on the floor with her chair. Then I shoot these two,” Caleb says, pointing his index finger in a gun motion at the two frozen guards.

“I’m not sure I can fall like that,” Mira says, looking at her frozen self. Her hands are free, but her legs are duct-taped to her chair.

“We’ll just have to practice that part as well,” Caleb says, his eyes crinkling in the corners. I get the feeling he’s going to enjoy this part, too.

“You want to tie me to a chair so I practice falling?” Mira says. She doesn’t look happy.

“Exactly.” Caleb grins. “See, Eugene, you’re not the smartest one in the family.”

Eugene and I free the frozen Mira from the chair and place her limp body gently in the corner of the room. I accidentally touch her exposed skin, but nothing happens. I guess once we pulled one Mira into the Quiet, touching her frozen self doesn’t produce more Miras. It would have been kind of cool if it did.

Mira sits down in the chair and, muttering something in Russian under her breath, grudgingly allows us to tape up her legs with the duct tape her guards left lying around. She’s now set up exactly as her frozen self was a few minutes ago.

She leans her body to the right, but the chair doesn’t fall. She shakes it back and forth, and slowly, almost grudgingly, the chair falls over.

“Are you okay, sis?” Eugene asks her.

“Yes. Pick me up,” she says, trying to push herself off the floor. Her position looks extremely uncomfortable.

“That was too slow,” Caleb says. “Try again.”

I get up and walk over to a dingy couch standing in the furthest corner of the room. I take the cushions from it, and lay them on either side of Mira. No point for this to hurt more than it already must.

“Thanks, Darren,” she says before she begins shaking the chair again.

The cushions help, but it’s clearly an unpleasant practice. She does it again and again over the course of about twenty minutes. We try to give tips—which are usually met with disdain.

Eventually Caleb decides she won’t be able to improve further.

About five seconds to fall over is the best she can do.

“We need a different strategy to distract them,” I say. “Besides falling, I think you should also start yelling. Scream ‘mouse’ or ‘spider’ at the critical moment and start waving your arms, acting like you’re freaking out right before you fall.”

Julia chuckles. Mira gives me a deadly glare. Caleb is about to say something, but Eugene shakes his head at him behind Mira’s back. He must actually think it’s a good idea.

“Just do it, sis,” Eugene tells Mira. “It won’t be the first time. Remember when you jumped on the table—”

“Don’t say another f*cking word,” Mira interrupts him. “I’ll do it.”

And before her brother has a chance to say anything more, she quickly walks up to her own frozen body—which is now lying on the floor—and touches that version of herself on the cheek. That makes her phase out, and she’s no longer in our company.