The Speed of Sound (Speed of Sound Thrillers #1)(106)

“But what about hearing your mother’s voice? What if we had gotten to your old address and your house was still there?”

“The echo box is in here.” He pointed to his own forehead. “If my old house was still there, and the people who lived there had let us inside, I would have made the echo box work again.”

“Just like that?”

Eddie nodded. “Just like what?”

“How long would it have taken you to make the echo box work again?”

“Approximately as long as it took me on the train to Philadelphia when you fell asleep. Seventy-three minutes.” He looked at her briefly before turning back toward the windows, hoping to hear a chickadee or a bluebird or a grebe or even a starling. He was desperate to sing with the birds. And rate his next meal. And fill another notebook with questions and observations. “If I cannot hear my mother’s voice, I have no reason to make the echo box work again.”

She inched closer to him because she wanted to whisper what she had to say next. It was a secret. A great big secret. And she wanted it to have all the impact this secret deserved. “There is still a way you can hear your mother’s voice.”

Eddie perked up immediately. All of his sadness and melancholy suddenly seemed to disappear. He could barely contain himself. “How?” Skylar smiled in a very particular way. By now, he knew exactly what this expression meant. It was an easy one to memorize. “You’re going to ask me to trust you on this one, aren’t you?”



Eddie sat in the wheelchair with utterly no expression on his face, just as Skylar had instructed, while she wheeled him briskly toward the Harmony House main entrance. The echo box and laptop supercomputer were both in his lap. They were ten feet from the door when a uniformed man in his late forties intercepted them. He spoke with a slow Tennessee drawl. “Excuse me, Dr. Drummond, may I be of some assistance?”

“It would be great if you could hold the door open for us, thanks.”

The guard did so, asking ever so politely, “May I ask where you’re going?”

“I’m taking the patient off campus for some location therapy.”

He stepped in front of Eddie’s wheelchair. “Not without being escorted by my men, you’re not.”

Skylar stiffened. “Excuse me?”

“Perhaps the rules have not been explained to you.”

“Who the hell are you?” She studied him angrily.

“Yancy Packard, new head of security.”

“Well, Yancy, why don’t you enlighten me?” She was indignant.

“Please forgive my being blunt, Dr. Drummond, but in matters pertaining to security, this facility is mine, not yours.” His tone was not in the slightest bit arrogant. In fact, he continued to sound very eager to please. “My only objective is to maintain the safety and security of you and all your patients. I will be happy to arrange a car that will take you anywhere you’d like.”

“I don’t want a driver. I prefer to drive myself.”

“I would prefer that one of my men drive you.”

“Nobody rides in the car with us.” She said it with finality. The young doctor was only going to be pushed so far.

“Then I will arrange for an escort vehicle to lead you on your way. Would that be acceptable?”

She paused, pretending to think it through. Of course she knew they wouldn’t be allowed to leave the facility without armed guards. But her objective had been achieved. She and Eddie would be alone in her car, which had been towed back to Harmony House the day before. The drive would give him the time he needed to work his wonders on his device without prying eyes. The echo box would be fully functional by the time they reached their destination, which was just over two hours away.





CHAPTER 113

Route 323, Saylan Hills, Pennsylvania, May 29, 2:53 p.m.

Saylan Hills, Pennsylvania, was 117 miles from Woodbury, New Jersey. It took exactly two hours and nineteen minutes for Skylar and Eddie and their escort vehicle to reach the city limits. Or, more specifically, to reach the lone traffic light that marked the town’s eastern border. It was a small farming community surrounded by rugged mountains full of coal and other greenhouse-gas-producing minerals.

Eddie sat in the back seat with his devices beside him as he took in the scenery outside his window. “It looks like I remember from the last time I was here. Most of the buildings are the same, except that barn. It used to be red.” He pointed to a faded yellow barn in the distance. “That field wasn’t planted with corn. It had rows of string beans. My grandparents said the people who owned the field wouldn’t mind if I picked some to take home with me.”

“Did you?”

Eddie shook his head. “My father wouldn’t stop the car. He said we didn’t have time.”

“How old were you the last time you were here?”

“I was seven years, three months, and nineteen days old. My father had asked Nana and Papa if I could live with them, but they said no. Their house used to be right over there.” He pointed to a large field now planted with corn. There wasn’t a structure anywhere near where Eddie was pointing. “It’s quiet here. I think I would have liked living with my nana and papa.”

“If you had lived here, you most likely would have never gone to Harmony House, and we might never have met.”