At First Touch (21 page)

Carey’s thoughts were a jumble, mostly centered on how he was going to break the news to me that he was more than human and how I would take it. The irony of the situation helped bring me back a bit; the shaking in my limbs eased and I was able to accept that I had survived an impossible situation yet again. Now, looking up at Carey’s brilliant blue eyes and feeling the strength of his arms around me, I knew it was time to tell him the truth about myself.

“I already know, Carey. I know,” I said softly. His eyes widened in surprise and then the sound of the sirens closing in jerked him to attention.

“Hang on tight,” he muttered and we were suddenly flying, moving so fast I barely had time to breathe before he stopped again. We were standing in the clearing he had parked in the first day he drove me to school to question me about Fitz. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

He gently put me down but kept a hand on one arm, as though afraid I would bolt the moment he let me go. I was in control of myself again and smiled a little at his concern; as though anything about Carey could ever frighten me after what I had seen and known.

“I think it’s going to take me a while to get used that mode of travel,” I joked, trying to straighten out my windblown hair with my free hand. At some point my ponytail had fallen apart and my hair was a tangled mess, like I’d been driving 90 miles per hour with my head out the window.

“Liz, let me explain. Please, just…don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you,” Carey pleaded, clearly still worried that I was going to start freaking out at any moment. I shook my head and smiled, suddenly excited about finally coming clean with him, having someone to share my secret with who would truly understand some of what I’d been through.

“Carey, you don’t have to. I already know all of it. I’ve known since the day I met you,” I said gently. He just stared at me incredulously, not able to comprehend

“How?” he finally asked, sounding like a bewildered little boy. I held his eyes with mine as I opened the connection between us, tuning into the wild tangle of his thoughts.  

“What is this about, what is she doing? Her eyes are so strange, so intense and focused…What is…is she…is she reading my mind?” I recited, plucking the words directly from his mind. He dropped my hand like it was on fire and stepped back a few paces, eyes fixed on me with panic and wonder.

“I can read your mind, Carey. I can do more than that; I know everything about you. Everything you’ve ever done, ever known, ever thought. It’s all in my head, since the first time you touched me.” I said, excitement making my voice shake slightly. “I know what you can do, and I want you to know about me.”

He stood staring for another minute and then nodded slowly, giving me permission to continue. So I told him. I told him about the accident, about waking up from the coma a year later, about the first time my father touched my skin and I learned everything he knew, and everyone else who touched me. I told him about the years of hiding, about the endless stream of knowledge pouring into my mind whether I wanted it or not. And then I told him about the day we met and how he touched me and I learned his secret, and that I was so happy to find someone different, like me.

When I finally finished I was out of breath and my mouth was dry. Once again he merely stared at me without commenting and I fought the urge to look into his thoughts and gauge his reaction. I owed him the chance to think things through, to reject or accept what I had told him. If I was honest with myself, I was just too afraid to hear what he really thought.

After what seemed like hours, Carey blinked and then a radiant smile creased his face, wiping away the lines of worry and fear, lighting his skin from within and making him glow in the afternoon sun. My breath caught for a moment, his beauty was so overwhelming and then I smiled too, with all the weight of the past four years behind the smile.

“It’s true, isn’t it?  I mean, I knew there was something different about you and there were a couple times when I kind of felt like there was this…connection, like you were in my head or something, and you were, weren’t you? This is…I mean, I never thought…God, what a relief!” he finally exclaimed, throwing his arms wide. I stood grinning at him, thinking that this whole revelation thing was going so much better than I’d imagined when his smile began to fade and his arms slowly dropped to his sides, as though someone had pushed a button and deflated him.

“What is it?” I asked, suddenly fearful. What if he had changed his mind about me?

“My God, that’s…that’s why that guy attacked you, right?  He was from the Coalition?”

I nodded, my smile disappearing as swiftly as it had come.

“Then why…I mean why didn’t you want to tell the cops the truth right away? I mean, you must know enough stuff about these people to put them away for life, right?” I could see that Carey didn’t really understand the kind of danger I was in because of my abilities, the kind of danger he would be in if he were ever exposed to someone more enquiring than the friendly but semi-oblivious sheriff of Pound. Well, he was about to learn.

“Carey, the government knows about me. That’s one of the reasons I’m in hiding, why I didn’t want to talk to the FBI. When this first happened and I learned to control it, I didn’t try to hide from the police; in fact, I went to them, all the time, with information. Most of the time they didn’t believe me, and when they did… it never worked out well. Anyway, one time I went to the FBI with information about a very dangerous man and when I was proved right, they took me. They put me in a lab and ran tests on me and interrogated me twenty hours a day. They brought in criminals and suspects and informers and made me download them, suck information out of them like poison. They planned to keep me secret, hide me away from the world, take away my life. If they had their way I would still be locked up in some sterile room, stealing the thoughts of filthy, evil people, never having my mind to myself.”          

I dropped wearily to the ground, pulling my knees up to my chest protectively, lost in the remembrance of one of the darkest periods of my life. They had kept me so exhausted, so out of touch with the world outside that I had begun to lose any sense of self. My mind had been overrun by the people I was forced to download and I had even begun talking to myself, thinking I was having conversations with the myriad voices in my head.

They had put me on anti-psychotic drugs, turning me into a living zombie; a slave for their purposes. I don’t even think they saw me as human after a while, just some cipher that wandered between four white walls and stared out of hollow eyes at nothing in particular.

After a moment I realized that Carey had sat beside me, his arms surrounding me in a warm cocoon. I wasn’t crying. Those memories couldn’t draw tears from me anymore, just a sort of numb acceptance, but Carey was speaking softly and gently, soothing me with senseless words of comfort.

I hesitated and then nestled my head against his chest, which was a little like leaning my head against a wall, but it was reassuring.

“I’m sorry. It’s just very difficult to think about. But you can see why I don’t trust authority figures much anymore,” I said dryly.

“I never would have imagined. You’ve really had a difficult time of it, haven’t you?” Carey asked quietly, his voice thoughtful.

“Yes,” I answered simply. There wasn’t much else to say.

We were silent for a while, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Carey was lost in thought and I was pleased to let him have his privacy, simply taking comfort from his nearness and the relief of sharing my burden. The bright afternoon sun had dipped behind the mountains and a cold twilight was settling in, making me increasingly aware of the damp ground and the unpleasant chill that was seeping into my legs and lower back.

Finally, Carey seemed to rouse himself and stood, pulling me up by the arms as easily as if he were lifting an empty bag. He smiled at me and brushed a stray hair from my face. I was content.

“Let’s go get something to eat,” he said, brushing the grass off of his jeans. I followed his example and groaned with despair as I felt the tell-tale signs of mud on the seat of my pants.

“Why don’t you come back to my house and we’ll order pizza,” I suggested, hoping to change my clothes. Plus, Dad would be pacing the kitchen until I returned. “I need to let Dad know I’m ok. It’s been a while since I left; he’s probably wondering where I am.” Carey agreed and we started walking toward the road until I remembered that there was no car waiting for us.

“Uh, Carey, do you have a car parked nearby or something?” I asked, curious suddenly how he had come to be exactly where I needed him at precisely the right moment. He looked away sheepishly.

“Not exactly. I ran to your house after school and then followed you. I wasn’t stalking you, I swear,” he said hurriedly, “but Preston was pissed at school today, and was talking about you pretty viciously, so I wanted to keep an eye on you. It wouldn’t be the first time he did something stupid because he was angry.”

“I know,” I replied briefly, going over some of Preston’s less palatable responses to taunting in the past. There was one particular incident that stood out among the rest; when a fellow basketball player had spread rumors around school that Preston had checked him out in the showers, Preston had beaten the boy nearly unconscious. I was surprised that I had so seriously misjudged Preston the first time I met him.

Carey gave me a strange look and I recalled myself to the present. “I downloaded Preston; that’s how I knew about what happened with Jessie. But I never said anything, or told anyone. It was better used as a threat, anyway.” Carey nodded and shot me an apologetic smile.

“About that; I’m really sorry I jumped to the wrong conclusions Liz. Especially after what you just told me, well, I guess you have a lot of people’s secrets stuck in your head. And you certainly haven’t given mine away.  I’m really sorry,” he repeated, his voice quiet and sincere.

“It’s alright. I understand. I just hope you give me a little more credit next time,” I replied, my voice even and detached. He nodded earnestly. “Oh,” I said, suddenly reminded of what had brought us to this point. “What happened to Preston? Is he alright?”

Sobered, Carey nodded. “Yeah, he should be ok, though he’s banged up pretty bad. I called 911 from his phone and pretended to be him, so there shouldn’t be any way for them to connect us to the accident.” He grimaced.  “Besides, I could smell the alcohol on him the second I opened the door. He’s in for some real trouble.” I nodded and we stood quietly for a moment.

Suddenly, Carey gave me another one of his blinding smiles. “Can I give you a lift?” he asked. Before I could answer, Carey, grinning impishly, swept me up into his arms, making me feel a little like Scarlett O’Hara. “Hold tight,” he whispered, and then we were gone.

For the first time that afternoon I was in a position to actually enjoy his mode of travel; before, I had been too startled and dazed by Preston’s blitz attack to appreciate what was going on. It was almost as though we were standing still in a wind tunnel; the air moved past us at a breakneck speed, the trees and telephone poles ran across my field of vision like a movie in fast forward, impossible to track. And then just as suddenly everything came into focus again and we were standing in front of my house. I glanced down at my watch; only a few seconds had passed.

“Well that was a heck of a thing,” I said shakily as Carey put me on my feet. I was a little wobbly, and imagined that this must be what it felt like to travel at Mach speed.

“Are you ok? I’ve never actually tried that with anyone in my arms before; well, not for any real distance anyway,” Carey asked anxiously. I laughed and straightened up, my vision clearing and the spinning in my head becoming more manageable.

“That was…awesome!” I replied, unable to think of any word more appropriate. “I knew you could do that, but it’s a little different experiencing it myself. Wow,” I breathed, grinning from ear to ear. I felt light, as though I could float over the ground in my happiness. I had told Carey the truth and he accepted it. Not only had he accepted it, he was happy and already sharing his abilities with me. I couldn’t believe how well everything had turned out and felt overwhelmingly grateful for the circumstances that had led my father and me to Pound, West Virginia.

Carey grinned at me and I could tell without reading his thoughts how satisfied and excited he was at having someone else know his secret, particularly someone who was also “different.” I opened the back door and walked in calling for my dad. He immediately appeared in the kitchen, phone in hand and gave a huge sigh, the lines of worry on his face smoothing out in relief.

“Where in the hell have you been? You left two hours ago, and you haven’t called; and I heard sirens and the police scanner said there’d been an accident not far from here…” he trailed off, his hands held out helplessly. A wave of guilt rushed over me like cold water and I hurried into his arms.

“Dad, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry; I was running and Preston almost hit me, and then Carey…” I cut myself off with a glance at Carey, not sure if he would approve of me telling my father the truth about him.

“What is going on? Who’s Preston?  Are you alright?” Dad gripped me fiercely, pupils dilated in fear.

“No, Dad, I’m fine. Carey saved me. I was running and Preston, this guy from school who’s mad at me, saw me running and tried to hit me with his truck.” Dad’s eyebrows shot up alarmingly and he quickly surveyed me for damage. “He didn’t hit me; Carey ran in and knocked me out of the way in time, but I think Preston may have crashed his truck. That’s probably the accident you heard about. We came straight here, since I didn’t think I should be on the scene when the cops showed up,” I hurriedly explained, hoping he didn’t ask for more details about Carey’s rescue. He seemed satisfied; after all, he was used to the dramatic when it came to my life, and he clapped a hand on Carey’s shoulder.