The Thought Readers (Mind Dimensions #1)(55)

Eugene is still standing next to the man he stabbed, but what he’s not seeing, because he’s looking away, is that the guy isn’t dead, like we thought. He’s lying on the floor and holding a gun aimed at us.

Before I can even digest the image in front of me, there is a shot.

It’s the loudest thing I’ve ever heard. It’s like my ears explode. Like the most intense thunder you could ever imagine.

Everything seems to slow, and then goes quiet. A very familiar kind of quiet. I realize that I phased in without consciously trying. Near-death experiences are becoming a habit today.

In the safety of the frozen world, I look around. There is a bloody circle on Julia’s left shoulder. Her face is frozen in shock. Despite myself, I’m relieved. Though she’s clearly been shot, even without being a doctor I know that shoulder wounds are rarely fatal. The real reason for my relief, however, is that my own frozen body is unscathed.

The biggest surprise is Caleb, who I thought was still in the process of laying the dead guard on the ground. In the time it took me to phase into the Quiet, he’s already holding a gun. And the gun has smoke around its muzzle. He must’ve managed to take it out and shoot, almost as soon as the other shot was fired. Or maybe he saw it coming? Maybe he was phasing in every second, assessing the situation around us—something I now realize I should’ve been doing. Still, Caleb’s speed is astounding.

The most incredible part is that I can actually see the bullet. It’s a few inches away from the shooter’s head.

With dread, I open the door into the room with Mira.

It’s bad.

The guy who was playing cards with her is now standing. He’s trying to get out of the way of his partner—the more suspicious guard, who’s now pointing his gun down at Mira. She, with her chair, is lying on her side on the floor. She completed the difficult maneuver, as we’d planned. Only now it might be for nothing. The noise of the gunshots ruined everything.

I get closer to the suspicious guard and inspect the situation. The muscles in his wrist are taut. He looks like he’s about to pull the trigger.

I refuse to accept this.

I touch his forehead.



*



We’re still contemplating what to say in the text to the hostage’s brother, whose number we located in the girl’s pink phone, when we hear the shots outside the room.

Someone must be trying to free the hostage. Unbelievable. What idiot would even try something so stupid?

We know we need to follow orders, which were very explicit on this. Arkady made us repeat them. If any shit goes down, first order of business is to shoot the girl. After that, we must deal with whoever might’ve come after her. If we kill her brother, we get a big bonus.

We take the gun and aim. We’re pressing the trigger.



*



I get out of his head. I have no doubt about it now. He’s shooting. In his head, I felt my—or I should say his—finger squeeze the trigger. His brain already sent the instructions to his arm. In a second after I phase out, a shot will fire. A shot aimed directly at Mira.

If only he was just reaching for his gun. If only his partner would trip and fall to cover her somehow. If only the door was wide open already—I’m right behind it, ready to shoot.

I want to scream. I’m ready to kill. Only it’s too late.

I can’t just watch Mira die. I have to do something.

Not sure why, I approach the guard who was looming over Mira. The one who was playing cards with her before. Vasiliy, I remind myself.

I touch his forehead.



*



We’re looking at the girl on the floor. We know what Tolik is about to do. We feel faint regret. We think it’s a shame she’ll be killed. We think it’s a waste of a very nice female specimen.

I, Darren, realize that this one likes Mira in his own crude way. A way that’s not altogether different from the way I like her. It makes this experience odd. It also seems to push me further with what I’m trying to do.

Without fully realizing what I’m doing, I focus on his regret. On the fact that he likes her. Even on his lust for her.

I picture it growing. I picture what regretting losing someone very close to me would be like and channel it into Vasiliy. I recall wanting to f*ck Mira and channel those memories into him. I recall what losing my grandmother felt like, which has nothing to do with Mira, but seems useful, so I channel that into him, too. It feels like I’m pouring my essence into him. As if for a moment, we merge into the same person.

It feels like I’m achieving something, so I continue further, almost becoming my host.

I think of Tolik. He’s my best friend. If I just get in the way of the gun, he’ll never shoot. He’ll stop, and then I can talk to him, explain why the girl must be spared. I picture us coming up with a scheme. We tell Arkady she’s dead. Tolik gets full credit and a huge bonus. She and I disappear from NYC, maybe even from the US. I picture how grateful the girl will be when she realizes she owes her life to me.

I finally picture the simple action that can make it all come together. I need to fall on top of her. From where I’m standing, it will take less than a second to just fall down.

I will feel her body under my own. I’ll be her strong protector. A real man. All I need to do now is show a little courage. And then, of course, Tolik will stop. He’ll never shoot me. All he needs to see is that that she’s important, and it will all be over . . .