You said it came for you almost hourly now? You’ve fought it off since we’ve been talking? she’d asked.
He’d realized it then. No, actually. Not since then.
She’d nodded, looking every bit the calculating doctor. Like a spinal cord epidural.
What? he’d asked.
We use them as a pain inhibitor. Perhaps when you open these channels to us, it blocks its ability to get to you. And, as a result, only you can control us. Well, best keep at it to keep it from getting to you. Plus, I need to vent.
She was angry. Furious. She hated the idea of something having control of her. Hated that she was locked up inside a room.
I survived medical school. Someone should only be in prison once in their lives, she’d said.
He’d grinned. She’d smirked.
Then she was back to business, asking more about when the dreams had come to him, and asking for details about the moments since the agents arrived at his trailer in Arkansas.
He’d told her everything, wishing there were something—anything—humorous to mention, just to see her smile again. He was desperate for something to break the tension of the last days.
When their meals had come, they’d broken the communication. After eating, he’d tried to read, worrying that there was no way Nanna could make sense of what he’d said.
The dreams had reached him so suddenly, he stood up in alarm.
The room was too small for any type of real exercise, but he knew from before that physical exhaustion often kept the dreams at bay. He did pushups until he couldn’t lift himself, but then lay on the floor, closing his eyes.
The dream waited.
Desperately, he’d stood. He’d reached out to her.
Come on in, Jane replied.
He could almost hear a hiss of anger as their communication blocked out everything.
Tell me everything, he’d said.
Everything?
Talk to me until there’s nothing left to say. I’m so sorry that you’re caught up in this.
She’d leaned forward. Now that I’ve touched you, I can sense where you are. You think your grandmother can too?
It’s different for adults, I think. We have to touch first. It’s like it burns a connection into us, that’s the best way I can describe it. But Lily and that boy Ryan, who I told you is down here with us? They could do it before we ever make contact. He thinks it’s because they’re children, and they’re somehow tuned in more precisely than adults. Ryan says we’re right beside the Potomac River, beneath some warehouse. I hope my Nanna knows that.”
“If she knows where you are, and we’re deep under the earth beneath some warehouse, how in the world will she ever get us out?”
“I’m gambling that she—or probably my aunt, she’s a reporter—can get word to a friend. It’s a long shot, but he’s well connected. If he can get out of his own mess, he might be able to buy his way down here.”
“Even if he gets in, how do we get out?”
He’d just hung his head.
She’d then remarked on how tired he looked, and suggested he try to sleep. He’d replied that sleep is when the dreams came.
Then just stay with me. If it can’t reach you in these… communications of ours… then just sleep. We won’t have to talk.
He’d laid down on the bed, watching as she closed her own eyes. He was asleep almost instantly.
The unbolting of the door forced him awake and out of his bond to her. His grogginess suggested he had slept for a good amount of time.
The door opened, and Lily’s small face peered around.
His eyes widened as she rushed to him, throwing her arms around his neck.
“He came back,” Lily said softly.
William reached out and firmly shook Quincy’s hand. “I can’t believe it….”
“We gotta get out of here.”
“There are others, we need to get Jane—”
“I’m here.”
She stood out in the hallway, next to an older man in a suit, with an American flag pin on his lapel. “Imagine my surprise when Miss Lily was standing in my door, along with the rest of these gentlemen,” she said.
“Jesus Christ,” the man in the suit said, looking at William. “It is you.”
“Will, this is Congressman Flip Smith. I’m a longtime supporter of his. I told him I needed a tour of this agency that happened to be in a warehouse. Listen, we don’t have much time–”
“Congressman, thank you. There’s another boy down here,” William said, walking into the hall. “We have to get him out. And Steven must be here somewhere. We have to get them both.”
“There’s only two doors left at the end of the hall. Look. One reads ‘staircase’ above it,” Quincy said, pointing. “We didn’t get to that one.”
“I actually need someone to explain to me right now why you people are all down here,” Flip said. “None of us are moving one more inch until I am told the whole damn story—”
The ding of an elevator that shot down the hallway was obviously set at an incredibly high decibel to alert anyone standing in the nearby corridors.
“Oh crap,” Quincy muttered.
“I don’t know where Steven is. But Ryan is just down the hall,” William said, turning around to run when the sound of rushing booted feet pounded towards them.
A squadron of soldiers in black spilled out around the corner, the infrared lights on their long guns flashed as they blocked the hall.
“Drop to the floor! Drop now!” one shouted. “Mr. Chance, we don’t want anyone to get hurt!”
“Listen here!” Flip stepped forward. “I am Congressman Flip Smith, and you best lower those weapons! You get your damn general down here—”
“Sir, drop to the floor! Hands on your head!”
William immediately felt Lily stir, and he reached out to touch her shoulder.
“Mr. Chance! I’m not warning you again—”
“You know what we can do!” William barked. “Stand back! I don’t want to hurt any of you!”
He could tell the soldiers had been warned.
“What do you mean, what you can do?” Flip demanded.
William knew Jane had come to stand directly behind him, remembering her question about Quincy finding them. If he can get in, how can we get out?
He hadn’t answered her then.
With a quick reach backwards, he found her wrist and held tight.
SEVENTEEN
From the first-floor windows, purposely made to appear dingy from the outside to conceal the agency within, Kate watched the protestors rush away in the sudden onslaught of rain.
Her mother was not with them.
She looked back to Steven, whose breathing had becoming disturbingly labored in the far corner of the room. He’d confided that he had advanced heart disease. Even with all the pain and resentment she’d felt for years about the man, it pained her to see this kind of suffering.
“Hang on, Dr. Richards,” she said. “I demanded that they bring a doctor.”
“Is she here?” he responded in a whisper.
Once again, Kate glared at the door, furious that Hallow had locked it behind him. All of the threats she wanted to make were useless. It didn’t matter what elected position she held. All she was now was the daughter of the woman who had revealed an agency’s once clandestine location to the world—
The door handle turned, and Flynn stepped in, quickly shutting it.