Predominance (18 page)

Something was creating an invisible field of energy between me and the door, an energy that allowed me to feel every inch of it...as if it were a part of me. Palpating the invisible field, I realized that this wasn't the first time I'd felt it. I'd felt it in the lab during our first escape, while I was falling into the gorge, and in the river when Sarah almost drowned. Suddenly, everything was clear. This was some aspect of my telekinesis manifesting: the ability to manipulate matter without touching it, once the mind established a connection with the molecular structure of an object.

I couldn't help but see the irony in this. A skeptical physics student endowed with an ability that contradicted his knowledge, the very foundations of his faith? Xavier would've had a blast laughing at me.

Suddenly I found myself reasoning with the impossible—or at least, with what I had thought was impossible—and I began to analyze the variables at hand. The more I concentrated on the door, the stronger this force field seemed to become. Pressure only seemed to reinforce it. After running the numbers in my head, I found myself stepping back while pushing at the invisible field, forcing it to expand between me and the door.

“Victor?” Sarah called, clearly confused by my strange behavior.

I stopped at what I thought it was a safe distance, and planted my feet firmly on the ground. Understanding the only logical step left for me to take, I braced myself internally as well and began to push the field—not only with my hands, but with my mind as well. “Sarah, stand back!” I warned as I leaned forward, applying more pressure to the invisible field. The doors creaked loudly then, and Sarah's eyes widened. Her face held a mixture of fear and excitement as she witnessed the paranormal phenomenon.

I closed my eyes as I felt the doors shake on their hinges, and increased the pressure against the force field. The nature of the event itself challenged my concentration, which made my arms weaken and quiver. The door, however, seemed to be finally yielding to the pressure. So I steeled myself and pushed with everything I had.

My feet slid back a couple of inches over the smooth marble, an obvious display that what I was trying to move was far heavier than my meager 160 pounds. My push was followed by a loud metal groan that made me open my eyes. I watched as the extremely fine gap between the two doors began to widen, as the squealing metal bent inwardly towards the isolation ward. Sarah's face lit up with amazement as she saw the case-hardened steel stretch like putty right before her eyes. The gap between the doors was now molded into two triangular openings above and below the middle lock.

My mental strain soon became physical, and my whole body began to shake. My legs weakened and bent, as if trying to bring me down to my knees. But I held my ground. I'll admit that was ready to give up when, suddenly, the locking mechanism burst apart with a loud spang, and fragments of
its metal parts flew down the corridor beyond as the heavy doors slammed wide open against the interior walls. I was sure the guards would come running given all the noise, but apparently they were all still outside searching the grounds.

I collapsed on my hands and knees, losing connection with my surroundings, completely drained of the energy that had fueled my powers. For a second, I thought I'd lose consciousness. Sarah came to my aid, her arms around my shoulders. “Victor, you okay?”

“Yeah.” My jaw quivered. “I… I think so.”

“Can you walk?”

“Yes.” I pushed myself back to my feet and entered the ward. Sarah followed, casting one final awed glace at the bent doors as we passed them.

The hallway was long and narrow, with about a dozen doors on each side. I tried to concentrate on the insides of those rooms, but it was useless; my hypersenses were completely shot. I couldn't sense anything beyond my own feeble breathing and shaking jaw. A process of elimination was our only option, so we decided to open every door in the ward. Sarah took the right side and I took the left. Door after door, room after room, we found nothing. My hopes were wearing thin when I stumbled upon a locked door. “Sarah!” I whisper-shouted. “This one is locked!”

Sarah rushed over, realizing my weak condition, and decided to take matters into her own hands. With a speed that challenged my ability to follow, she faced the wooden door and threw a perfectly executed sidekick that broke the lock. The door flew open and smashed against the wall. I found myself staring at her like an idiot, a quizzical look on my face.

“What?” she muttered, meeting my
eyes.

“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head. “Please get to the other doors.”

I entered the dark room while Sarah kept opening doors, feeling for the light switch until I found it and flipped it on. The light revealed a male patient. He was strapped down to an operating table, a strange veil covering his eyes. Seeing him so still gave me a very bad feeling. The image of poor Billie was still fresh in my mind, haunting me...yet I knew I couldn't turn away. I had to find out who it was and whether he was still alive. So I walked to the bed and took a closer look.

The restraints around his wrists and ankles were similar to the ones used in psychiatric hospitals: thick brown leather cuffs. I released the straps on his arms, which left behind angry red welts, and a shiver crept down my spine as I removed the strange veil from his face. I recognized the man on the spot—Damian.

His face was relaxed; too relaxed to be alive, I thought. I brought my ear close to his nose to check his breathing. A very faint hiss and tickle of breath reached my ear, and I saw his chest move slightly with the same rhythm. “Sarah!” I called out, remembering her medical training, and waited.

A sudden and forceful pressure on my arm made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “Shit!” I hissed under my breath as my heart sank into my stomach. “Damian?” I said, trying to escape his grip. His eyes were still closed. “Damian?!” I said again. His head jerked backwards and his mouth opened, letting out a long, desperate gasp, as if he'd just broken the surface of a mental pool where he'd been submerged for far too long. “Damian? Can you hear me?” His eyes rolled into the back of his head. “Sarah!” I called out again. “I need your help!”

Sarah ran inside the room as Damian began to shake violently. “He's having a seizure. Let him go. Don't hold him.”

“I'm not!” I explained. “He's got my arm!”

Sarah helped me loosened his grip.

The seizure ceased as quickly as it began. Sarah had me release his legs restraints, then asked me to help her roll Damian on his side. There we watched his breathing return to normal. “The seizure lasted less than thirty seconds,” Sarah said confidently. “He'll be fine.”

“Damian?” I said to him. His eyes fluttered rapidly before they finally opened.

“Victor?” he said feebly. “G-g-get me out of here!” 

“Don't worry,” I said, looking him in the eyes. “I will.”

I turned to Sarah and asked her to keep an eye on him while I checked the rest of the rooms. “Meet me at the end of the corridor,” I told her, and bolted out of the room.

As I ran down the corridor, I began to feel better—physically, at least. My head was no longer spinning and my body felt as if it were running on pure adrenaline. Suddenly, a spark in my head pointed me in the right direction; good, I was able to sense things again. And this feeling was by far the strongest of all. I sensed what I can only describe as the missing part of my own heart, a chaotic feeling of happiness and desperation that guided me to another locked door. I launched myself like a bull at a muleta and broke the door down.

This room was different than the one I'd found Damian in: well lit, with machines beeping and chiming around another capsule bed. The glass shield was foggy—just like Billie's—which made my heart pound. A small clipboard at the foot of the capsule read: Montgomery.

My feelings were confirmed.

Quickly, I yanked the opening lever and stepped back, hoping for the best but expecting the worse. The shield unlocked with a loud thud and began to slide open. I let the fumes disperse before I dared to look inside. When I did, I couldn't suppress my tears—she was there. Her eyes were closed and her sable hair was twisted on one side over her shoulder, as beautiful as only she could be. The pink tone in her cheeks gave me a clear indication that she was still alive.

The condition of her mind, however, was yet to be revealed. I could only hope for the best.

“Yvette,” I whispered, gliding my knuckles down the curve of her cheek, admiring her perfect bone structure. The pain disappeared then—the chaos in my mind gone. The emptiness I'd felt in my chest was filled by this simple touch. I realized then that she was all I would ever need… to survive, to live, to stay.

“Victor?” she moaned. The sound of her voice allowed me to breathe a sigh of relief. “What happened?” she asked, opening her eyes. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye, “Nothing, now.” Stroking her head, I leaned over and kissed her. Her lips were the ultimate nourishment for my famished soul.

“Ahem!” Sarah cleared her throat at the threshold behind me. “I hate to interrupt, but we're in a bit of a situation here. We need to go. Now!”

“Victor?” Yvette shot me a quizzical look. “What's going on? What's happened to you?”

Sarah interjected before I could utter a word. “I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but we just don't have time for this right now. Victor.” She turned to me. “I found three more patients, and they seem to be okay. But we have to get a move on if we want to get them out in one piece.”

“All right,” I agreed.

Yvette scowled at me, as if pressing for an explanation. “Who is she?”

“Oh, I'm sorry. Yvette, this is Sarah. Sarah, Yvette.”

“Hi,” they said simultaneously, with the same bleak tone.

“Are you going to tell me what's going on?” Yvette asked, confused, while Sarah glared, in a hurry to move on.

“Look,” I began, taking off my jacket, “I promise I'll tell you everything as soon as we're safe. But right now I need you to trust me—can you do that?”

She didn't hesitate. “Of course.”

“All right then. Put this on.” I helped her into my jacket. “Can you walk?”

“I think so.”

“Then let's get out of here.”

We followed Sarah to the end of the corridor, where three more sickly-looking people waited with Damian. Behind them, a metal door read Emergency Exit. Damian seemed collected now,
disturbingly calm. Next to him stood a blonde woman. She couldn't have been much older than Damian was, yet she had one of those maternal looks that inspire trust and respect. To her right, a huge black man stood, way past six foot tall, with a physique that resembled a bodybuilder's but the eyes of a man who wouldn't hurt a fly. Standing next to him was the third guy, whose ethnic roots must have been very close to mine. We shared the same height, body type, and even the same black, feathered hair. Had I ever been an actor, this guy would've been my perfect double.

They were all different, yet they all had something in common; they were all staring at the same person in the search of hope and answers. Me.

Funny, I thought. Just a few weeks ago, my biggest responsibility was to remember to take the trash out on time. Now I felt somehow responsible for the survival of seven people, including myself. It was enough to give anyone an anxiety attack.

“Is this our exit?” I asked Sarah.

“Yes,” she said uneasily, watching a monitor above the door. “This door leads to the meadow. And to the Town Car.”

I raised my eyes to the monitor, and discovered what had troubled Sarah. The monitor showed the other side of the exit door, where three armed guards stood with their itchy trigger fingers ready to fulfill Captain Black's orders. Apparently someone had discovered the ruins of the ward door. Though oblivious to our presence on the other side of the exit door, they certainly expected someone to try to come out this way—and seemed eager for that to happen.

“What are we going to do?” the blonde woman said in despair.

“We find another way,” Damian suggested.

“There isn't one,” I countered, running the numbers in my head. “Okay, listen up. We're going to have to work together if we want to make it out of here alive, you understand?” Everybody nodded. “All right, then. I'm going to need you three,” I pointed at the men, “to each handle one of them guards while the girls run to the car. Once in the car,” I turned to the girls, “I'll need you to pull in and pick us up, all right?”

The men exchanged confused looks and pondered for a second.

“Are we all good to go?” I asked.

“Wait!” my stunt double snapped. “What are you going to do?”

I took a deep breath and said, “I'm going to open the door and disarm the guards for you.”

Silence followed my words.

I stood in front of the door, with all their eyes on me, and lifted my open palms. I closed my eyes and concentrated as my senses roved outward, feeling my mind connecting to the objects I needed to move. The door and the guards' weapons were the only things in my mind now. I knew that in order for this to work, it needed to happen in one abrupt move. Anything less than that would alert the guards and ruin our element of surprise. And though the truth was that I was dealing with something beyond my own comprehension, there was something strangely familiar about it—something that compelled me to believe I could do it.