Mindsiege (Mindspeak #2)(30)

Just leave her there.

What? I can’t leave her.

Yes, you can. Now pull a chair over and sit beside Sandra. We need to talk.

I rolled a chair over and sat next to my genetic original, my back straight and stiff. My knee bounced up and down as I examined the facial features of the woman in front of me. It still unnerved me to see what I would like in about thirty years. Now what?

I need you to show me Sandra’s brain. Show me what is keeping her in a coma.

I ran my fingers along Sandra’s forehead and down her cheeks. The coma she was in masked the real Sandra. Her vulnerability overshadowed the personality my father told me about in his notes. I thought back to the email someone sent me—an email from Sandra to an agent with the IIA, which implicated Dad and Dr. DeWeese in her immoral and illegal schemes.

Dad said she had sold her research to the IIA and even consulted with them. After visiting The Farm, I now knew that she more than advised the IIA. Much more.

At Jonas’s insistence, I pictured Sandra’s brain. Immediately the colorful patterns of neurons firing came into view. The criss-crossing of axons—the paths between neurons—were shining like multi-colored glow necklaces found at amusement parks after dark. I honed in on the pooling of liquid at the base of the brain, where cerebral fluid had leaked. This was what was causing Sandra to remain unconscious. The amount of liquid accumulating looked even worse than I remembered from Friday.

What do you see? Jonas asked.

I gave Jonas my assessment. Seth said Sandra injected herself with some sort of genetic manipulating substance.

The question is, What are we going to do about it?

I thought my decision to do nothing was a good one, and assuming Jonas’s question was rhetorical, I decided he wasn’t expecting an answer. Besides, I wasn’t sure what would happen if I flushed this substance from Sandra’s head. The act of bringing her out of a coma could make me extremely ill. Or what if Jack was right? What if we didn’t know the consequences of my healing abilities yet? I certainly didn’t want to suffer a grand mal seizure like Georgia had.

And it might not even work.

Minutes passed. Jonas had fallen silent. I searched the corners of my mind for him. Having him in my head felt like a lingering illness—like the tail end of a flu where I was mostly better, but a dull ache still hung out along my temple.

I yawned, barely able to keep my eyes open as I sat and waited for further instruction from the boy with control over me. I had barely slept the night before, thanks to the train-jumping.

I rested my forehead against my folded arms on Sandra’s bed, thinking I’d just close my eyes for a few minutes, and hoping Jonas would move along and harass some other poor unsuspecting soul.

“Lexi,” someone whispered in my ear.

Moaning, I buried my face deeper into the bed. The scent of cigarette smoke reached my nostrils even as I inhaled the smell of detergent from the bed sheets. I didn’t want to wake up.

The realization of where I was came crashing back. I raised my head. Sandra remained comatose a few inches from me. I swiveled around slowly in my chair to find Jonas sitting, his legs crossed, on top of the neighboring bed. A cigarette hung from one corner of his lips.

“You can’t smoke in here.” My eyes circled the room. It was a stupid thing to say, but it was the first thought that entered my mind when I saw the person who was seizing my mind. My heart beat faster as panic set in and I remembered where I was. And now Jonas was actually in the room? I stood and backed away. The nurse remained on the floor by the desk. “How did you get in here?”

“In where?”

“Don’t be obtuse, Jonas. How did you get inside Wellington?”

He cocked his head. The edges of his lips curled into a smirk. “I can get anywhere you are, Lexi.”

I squeezed the bridge of my nose. “You’re in my dream.”

“Not exactly.” He took a drag, then made smoke circles in the air. “This is my first lesson for you.”

“Lesson?”

“I need something from you, and I’m willing to pay for it.”

I crossed my arms. “I’m listening.” Maybe we were finally getting to the root of Jonas’s irritating existence inside my head.

“I need you to heal Sandra.”

“No.” I stood up taller.

Jonas smiled. “You haven’t even heard what I’m willing to give in return.”

“Why would I help Sandra?” I could think of several reasons not to: Cathy wanted me to, Jonas wanted me to, and it would make me terribly sick. Healing Addison had landed me in the bed for two days. Not to mention, why would I fix this woman with a god complex who put herself into a coma by playing recklessly with her own scientific experiments? She knew no limits.

Jonas’s smile faded. “There are reasons not to heal Sandra, but the reasons to fix her far outweigh the risks.”

“And those are?”

“There are two. One, I’d train you to block me and the others who are capable of controlling your mind and actions. Consider it my thank-you.”

I was still hoping Jack, Kyle, and I could figure that out together. That was part of the reason Jack had forced me to run back to Wellington.

“And two,” Jonas continued. “Sandra made sure the clones she created suffered consequences when using their special abilities. This was to prevent any one of us from going all rogue on her.”