“I have your word on that?”
“Of course. Now, she’s safe, in an adjoining room. She’s sedated, enough to keep her contained, but we can bring her out of it anytime. What I need for you to do is go in there and talk to her, tell her what you want. I’ll leave the details up to you.”
Sarah fought her way up through the layers of cloud and fog, clawed her way through with renewed determination until she felt the final gossamer wing slip and part and she opened her eyes. For a very long moment, she did not understand where she was, or what had happened; only that her shoulder hurt terribly under the bandage, and her head felt as if it had been emptied and then filled back up with shards of glass.
I want to go home, she thought, for no reason at all.
You don’t even know where home is.
Around this little room were angles and corners of no particular significance; she did not recognize anything. There was equipment nearby, enough that it brought to mind the Room, and then she knew where she was and her little heart broke.
No. I won’t do it again.
Memories flooded her mind. The door ripping off its hinges, the two men being flung aside, the doctor being lifted off his feet and choking with blood, and she liked it, yes, she did, she had felt the power flowing out of her in a long, smooth wave and it felt good.
She moaned softly. She could control it better now, but somehow that made things even worse.
You are committing a mortal sin, one that cannot be undone.
She had killed him.
He deserved it.
That small voice in her mind was cruel and cut deep. But the thought of it thrilled her all the same, the idea of the ultimate revenge against so many injustices that had been heaped upon her for so long. She could do it to any of them. She could crush them like a bug beneath her heel, make them bleed or burn or slowly suffocate.…
No!
The sound of the door brought her back. She shivered at the sudden cold, at the puff of her breath and the realization that she had almost let it go again. It was so strong now, she had to clamp down so hard that it hurt. This thing inside her was like a coiled snake waiting to strike.
For a moment she caught a glimpse of the Room through the door, beyond the familiar figure that filled the space.
Jess Chambers closed the door behind her. Sarah leapt up and off the little bed and flung herself into Jess’s arms, ignoring the stabbing pain in her shoulder and the blood oozing through the bandage, sobbing, burying her little face against her chest.
“There, now,” Jess said. She held her and stroked Sarah’s hair. “Hush. It’s all right. We’re going to get through this, you hear me? We’re going to make our way through.”
“They’re watching,” Sarah said. Her voice was muffled against Jess’s shirt, and she pulled away and swiped at her eyes and nose.
“I know it. There’s a camera mounted near the ceiling. Don’t worry about that. Is your arm okay?”
“It hurts.”
“I bet it does. You did well down there, kiddo. You didn’t have a choice, with what happened. You know that, don’t you?
“I…”
“You kept us both from getting killed. Dr. Wasserman wasn’t going to listen to us, there was nothing you could do to change what happened.”
“I want to get out of here.”
“We can work on that. It’s almost time now. You know what they want you to do?”
Sarah nodded, sniffled. “Dr. Shelley, she’s sick. She’s going to die. And I don’t care.”
“I don’t blame you. But could you help her, if you wanted?”
“I don’t know.”
“They want me to convince you to try. They think I can get into your head somehow, with this drug they’ve given me, and there’s something to that, isn’t there? I mean I can feel it working on me, and I can feel you there. There’s this pain in my shoulder, just where you were shot.”
“I feel it,” Sarah whispered.
“Well, I don’t care what they want. I’m not going to convince you to do anything, Sarah. This is your decision. You have to figure it out on your own.”
Jess held her out at arm’s length, studied her face. Then she pulled her in close as if to hug her and put her lips to Sarah’s ear. “Don’t make a sound,” she said softly. “I know you’re scared. I don’t think they’re going to just let us walk away. But there is another way out. It’s not going to be pretty, and people are going to get hurt. Do you understand what I’m saying? Remember what I said before. You have to trust yourself.”
Sarah gave a little nod. Fear ripped through her belly and prickled her neck. But at the same time she felt a terrible eagerness to begin, to let it out, to see where it would all lead.
“Whatever happens, it’s not your fault. It’s time to let it loose, don’t hold back.”
You are committing a mortal sin.
They deserve it. Each and every single one of them.
“I think you better get away from me now,” Sarah said.
Jean Shelley waited just outside the door to the prepping room. The others were watching from inside the control booth. The huge, empty space yawned behind her like something coming to gobble her up, but she kept her gaze focused on the door, waiting for it to open. Willing it to open. Please. Her breathing came in shallow little gasps; it was difficult to get air now with the fluid pressing in on her lungs.
As she waited she tried to remember to calm her thoughts, slow her heartbeat, retreat to a meditative state. But she had gone too far now down another path, and her mind would no longer cooperate. She found herself thinking back to the night so many years ago and the strange woman who had arrived at the hospital. Annie Voorsanger had changed her life forever, and she probably didn’t even know it. How little Shelley had understood then, and how far she had come.
When the door opened, she knew instantly that it was over. Warmth spread through her body. The girl was beautiful, framed in the light from behind, her face in shadow. Angelic. Here was her savior; here was her life, ready to be returned to her.
They had dosed her with the dimerizer, dialed her up to full power. It was now or never. Dr. Jean Shelley stretched out her arms and closed her eyes. A great peace washed over her as she felt the room temperature begin to drop and her skin prickle.
She envisioned each and every diseased cell withering under the attack. They were in full retreat now as the girl worked her psychic fingers in among the folds of tissue. Playing them like a concert pianist would caress the ivory keys. Shelley smiled a little as her mind brought her back to those days when she could sit at the piano for hours as a child, her father, still alive then and retired from the company, pausing every once in a while to listen from the kitchen as he washed his hands before supper; go on now, Jean, play the Beethoven. God, how she missed that. The light through the sitting room window was red at sunset and lit the room up like fire….
“Stop,” a hoarse voice said. “What in God’s name are you doing?”
Shelley opened her eyes. She frowned. A bloody apparition had appeared at the main door to the observation room.