Mindsiege (Mindspeak #2)(29)

I jogged to the girls’ bathroom. A face I barely recognized stared back at me from the mirror, complete with dark circles, pale cheeks, eyebrows that needed plucking, and hair that needed washing. I was a mess.

The door squeaked behind me. I turned to find my nemesis, Briana, staring at me. It always amazed me how she made a school uniform look attractive, sexy even. Her skirt was shorter than most. She wore a more fitted white blouse. It also helped that Briana spent more than the ten minutes I had on hair and makeup. Her long red hair curled into loose waves. Blush, eyeshadow, eyeliner, and gloss were applied just so.

“Where the hell have you and Jack been?”

Upon hearing her demeaning attitude, I imagined her eyeliner and mascara streaking down her face after I held her head in a toilet for a few seconds.

“Why? Did you miss me?”

“You? No,” she scoffed.

Of course, she missed Jack. “We missed one day of school, Bree. What’s your problem?”

She shifted on her feet and clutched a book she was holding close to her chest. “I need to talk to Jack. Where is he?” If I hadn’t known Bree so well, I could have sworn her eyes were starting to tear.

I cocked my head, studied her, and thought of Dia. I wondered if Bree had similar mind trick capabilities. Did she know it? Jack, where are you? Bree’s got me cornered in the girl’s bathroom. She’s acting a little neurotic, and she’s looking for you.

I’m checking on Addison. Tell her you’re getting ready to meet me at lunch and invite her to join us.

Seriously?

Yes.

“Well, Bree, since you asked so nicely, and because we’re such great friends, I can tell you that Jack is meeting me for lunch. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”

Bree turned on her heels and headed for the door. Before exiting, she turned back. “You need some mascara or something. You look like crap.”

Wow, she’s a piece of work. A hot piece of work, but sheesh. Want to teach her a lesson? Jonas asked.

No, I don’t. What did that mean, anyway? This didn’t sound like the same Jonas I had just spoken with. This Jonas scared me. Please get out of my head, Jonas. Bree left while I continued my silent argument with Jonas.

No can do. I need you to do something for me.

No.

You don’t have a choice, Lexi. Do you remember how it felt to hold a knife above your head with its tip pointed at Jack? Can you imagine what it would have looked like if you had actually rammed it into his chest? The blood. The look in his eyes when he opened them and saw that the girl he loves was murdering him in his sleep.

What do you want me to do? Even inside my head, my voice sounded small. This was definitely not the same Jonas who’d helped me evade IIA agents the previous night. I was starting to believe that it was, in fact, someone else invading my mind through Jonas’s. But the fact remained: I was seeing Jonas any time this person got inside my head.

I want you to go to the infirmary, now, and tell no one where you’re going.





Chapter Thirteen


You got me here, now what? I asked Jonas as I stood in the basement of the infirmary.

The walls around me were stark white, clinical. The new location of The Program looked like a surgical center, not a place for learning like I had expected. The Program was supposed to be a way for those of us at Wellington to challenge ourselves, to further our medical studies before we completed high school. No one had ever led me to believe The Program would be a crash course in how to use my brain to bring people back from near-death.

The hallway was quiet. Each movement I made echoed off of the bare walls and tiled floor.

Last door on the right. You know where we’re going.

He was leading me to where we’d left Sandra and Addison on Friday night. I eased my way down the hallway. I heard no voices as I walked, only the sound of my own running shoes stepping lightly. My heartbeat quickened. I didn’t want to see Addison without Jack, and I didn’t want to see Sandra at all.

I pushed the door open. Memories of Friday flooded back. Of freeing Jack from the drug that had left him unconscious. Of healing Addison’s brain injuries. Of Cathy, Seth, Dr. Wellington, and their mysterious intentions for me and The Program.

I had fled Wellington and the overbearing forces of Cathy and The Program to keep from being used like a pawn in a chess match, yet here I was. And now I was being manipulated by a different force.

I moved into the room slowly. Addison was gone from the bed she had lain in three days ago. Sandra still lay lifeless in a bed on the end, her brown hair tousled against the pillow. Her chest rose and fell slowly, the only outward indication that her heart continued to beat.

The door closed behind me with an insignificant click that nevertheless thundered in my oversensitive mind. Only when I was completely in the room did I notice the woman sitting at a small desk. Her eyes were wide, and darted from me to Sandra and back. “Oh, my freaking goodness,” she said. She stood, took two steps, and fainted, hitting her head hard on a chair behind her as she fell.

I ran to her side. “Crap!” I checked her head for blood. Nothing. Good.

I laid her head back down gently and ran to one of the empty beds for a pillow. After placing it behind her head, I looked for a way to call for help.

Make sure she doesn’t have a concussion. You know how.

Jonas was right. I knew how. I examined her brain for signs of injury, but found nothing. I think she’s okay. She probably just fainted from seeing a replica of the woman lying in the hospital bed. I’d faint, too, if I thought it would help.