The Elders (32 page)

Clubbing George zapped the last of my strength. Actually, I might’ve borrowed some energy from my future. I can’t even imagine raising the gun to aim it at Caleb, so I drop it. Not like I was going to fire it anyway.

Caleb aims and fires. Blood and brain splatter everywhere. Given that I can see the resulting gore, I obviously wasn’t Caleb’s target.

“He was too dangerous.” Caleb
sounds almost apologetic. Did Caleb of all people also have reservations about killing George? “No one should be able to Push a Reader.”

He steps closer, looming directly over me. He proceeds to aim his pistol straight down, at my forehead. Now I understand the reason for his apologetic tone.

It’s killing
me
that’s giving him pause.

Apparently, it’s possible to be too worn out for self-preservation
because I don’t do anything other than watch him.

His face looks torn. Did I look that way a minute ago? Is growing a conscience contagious?

“If you pull that trigger, I’ll take your head,” a female voice says—a voice I recognize as Kate’s. A sliver of metal appears alongside Caleb’s neck.

I should be worried about getting a bullet to the head, but all I can think is: how did she sneak up on
Caleb? Given the man’s reflexes, that’s no easy task.

Kate gently moves her blade, generating a streak of blood across Caleb’s neck. “Let go of the gun. Now.”

Caleb smirks and obeys.

The gun falls on my head, and everything finally goes black.

Chapter 28

I
wake up to numbness.

I try to phase into the Quiet, but it doesn’t work.

Of course it doesn’t, I recall with a jolt. I’m Inert.

I open my eyes, find the room too bright, and close them again.

“I think he just blinked,” a voice says. The voice sounds a lot like Thomas’s.

“Darren, are you awake?” asks a soft, pleasant female voice that I instantly recognize as Mira’s.

I squint at them. Mira is sitting next to me on the bed. Her hand is on mine, but with all the warm numbness, I didn’t feel it until this moment. Her clothes are different. I think she’s wearing a man’s shirt, but by undoing a few of the top buttons, she’s definitely made it her own.

Thomas is sitting in a chair next to a bunch of hospital machines. His hands are bandaged, but he otherwise seems
okay.

I open my eyes wider. All the medical equipment next to Thomas is hooked up to me, as is the IV bag hanging next to Mira’s head.
 

I feel the slightly uncomfortable sensation of an oxygen assist in my nose. Even with the assist, I need extra air, so I take in a deep breath and regret it instantly. The numbness gives way to pain in my side.

“Can you get the doctor or a nurse?” Mira asks
Thomas. She must’ve seen me cringe. “They should give him more pain medication.”

Thomas walks out. Did he look guilty as he got up?

“I’m in the hospital.” This is a mix of a question and a statement, demonstrating the sort of wit that only painkillers can inspire. As I speak, I learn that talking hurts too. Also, my speech sounds slurred, even to my overmedicated ears.

“Yes.” Mira brushes the
tips of her fingers across my cheek. “Eugene called. He told me how you saved me . . . again.”

Bracing against the pain, I ask, “Are he and Bert—”

“They’re on their way here,” she says.

“How long has it been?” I speak more softly, and it hurts less.

“I’m not sure.” She looks at her phone. “A few hours.”

“Is George—”

Kate walks into the room, incongruently accompanied by Rose.

“George is
dead,” Kate says, her face as expressionless as Thomas’s usually is. “Didn’t you see Caleb shoot him?”

I look from Kate to Rose, who, to my surprise, is looking me over with genuine concern. Do I have to be this beat-up to trigger her grandmotherly instincts?
 

“Yeah, I saw,” I say, realizing Kate is waiting for an answer. “I just needed to be sure. I wasn’t exactly in the best shape . . .”

 
“You’re not exactly in great shape now.” Kate smiles. “But yes, the only way George could be deader is if I’d gotten to him first.”

“And James?” I decide to keep my breaths shallow; the pain in my side is increasing. “I didn’t get a chance to override him.”

“I figured as much.” Kate’s smile fades. “He was the reason George managed to escape.”

“No, I mean, is he alive?” A sharp stab in my side
reminds me that I forgot to speak softly.

“James is alive. Eleanor and Caleb knocked him out. Even John survived, though he’s in surgery.” As she talks, her eyes become suspiciously moist.

Making sure I don’t infuriate my injury, I loudly whisper, “What about the police officers? The ones George—”

“If you’re talking about the ones at the Temple, we tried to save as many as we could, but I won’t
lie—there was collateral damage. Same goes for the monks. If you mean the officers who accompanied you when George was running away, then I’m afraid none of them made it.”

A wave of intense guilt washes over me. My Guiding cost the sheriff and his deputies their lives, which wasn’t my intent. I was only trying to reverse George’s compulsion. As if sensing what I’m feeling, Mira places her other
hand on top of my palm, as though to warm me up.

“None of this is your fault,” Kate says, shrewdly picking up on my tension. “It’s all on George.”

“No,” Rose interjects. “We bear some of the responsibility.”

“Sorry to interrupt.” A tall man in a white coat enters. He stops, Kate standing between him and my bed. Though she isn’t wearing her sword, her body language speaks clearly, and the guy
instantly grows roots.

“ID,” she orders.

The guy points at his pocket and then to his face. Kate does her best imitation of a TSA agent, first staring at his badge, then at his face.

Finally, she says, “Okay, speak.”

“Umm, I was going to introduce myself. I’m Doctor Churin,” he says.

“Hi Doc, I’m Darren.” I try to sound friendly. It’s always been my policy to keep doctors happy with me, especially
while I’m in their hospital. “You can tell me about my condition in front of my friends and family.”

He looks at the chart, then around the room. Clearing his throat, he says, “You have a mild concussion, and your x-rays show a cracked rib.”

Kate whistles, Mira narrows her eyes, and Rose worriedly exhales.

“You should be fine,” the doctor says, half to me and half to the women. “We’ll just
need to make sure to provide you with proper pain management so you can breathe, cough, and laugh normally. The painkillers will also help your right ankle. It’s swollen and might be painful to step on. Now tell me, how do you feel?”

I give the doctor a big list of complaints, which he writes into my chart.

“I’ll check back in an hour.” He returns his pen into his breast pocket. “Meanwhile,
I’ll send in our best nurse to give you something for the pain.”

“Wait, doctor,” Mira says. “Can he sleep? I heard you can’t sleep with a concussion.”

“Since he can carry on a conversation, I wouldn’t worry. If you’re extra conservative, you can rouse him every few hours to make sure his condition isn’t deteriorating. We do that with children.”

“I’ll do that then,” Mira mumbles, more to herself
than to the doc.

Rose looks at her with unabashed curiosity.

The doctor leaves. He was so helpful that I wonder whether Thomas Guided him.

Now that I know my body will recover, I allow myself to worry about my Inert state. What if Eugene was right? What if I never recover my abilities? Imagining myself without my abilities is like imagining being blind.

The nurse comes in next, distracting
me from my blues. Before she’s allowed to do anything, Kate gives her the same ID treatment she gave the doctor. Thankfully, she clears her, and the nurse administers my feel-good juice.

“I’m going to get something to eat,” Kate says when the nurse leaves the room. “But don’t worry. Eleanor is just outside this door.”

“Are you guys protecting me?” I ask.

“You and her people.” Kate waves at
Rose. “The Elders want you and the Enlightened safe.”

Warmth and contentment spreads through me, though I’m not sure whether it’s brought on by the knowledge that Kate’s team is protecting me, or by the drug the nurse gave me. Whatever it is, it spreads nicely through my body and makes it very easy to breathe.

“They’re a little overbearing,” Rose says after Kate leaves the room. “But we’re putting
up with it, for the sake of peace.”

“Speaking of overbearing,” I say, feeling giddy at the joke I’m about to make. “How is Paul?”

She chuckles. “He’s got some bumps and bruises, but he’ll be okay. He’s grateful to you, even if you won’t hear him admit it. When that woman told him about Caleb trying to kill you, he was livid.”

She stops talking because there’s some kind of a scuffle coming from
the hall.

A few seconds later, Eleanor walks in. Her hands are on her hips, and she has Eugene’s head between her body and her right elbow. On her left, she has Bert’s head in the same position.

“Do you know these two?” she booms.

“Yes, please let them go,” I say at the same time as Mira snaps, “Let my brother go, you bitch.”

Eleanor complies, giving Mira a dirty look.

“Thanks, Eleanor,”
I say. “Please wait outside.”

To my shock, the big woman nods and exits. It might be the drugs, but I thought I saw a hint of respect in the gesture.

“Darren, how are you?” Eugene exclaims.

“What happened?” Bert’s voice is an octave higher than Eugene’s.

“Hi, Eugene,” Rose says with a sly smile.

“Do I know you?” Eugene asks, frowning at her.

“No.” Rose’s smile widens. “But I saw you in Darren’s
memories. You know, Julia is in the hospital . . .”

And with that, she exits the room, leaving Eugene with a flabbergasted expression on his face.

Not waiting for my friend to recover, I proceed to tell them what happened, including the stuff Eugene already witnessed, even though it’s obvious they heard some of the story already.

“So you gave up your Depth, your powers, to save me?” Mira’s
expression is hard to pinpoint. Maybe it’s shock, or maybe it’s something else. Something like gratitude.

I feel warm again, and this time, I know it’s not from the painkillers. Mira’s reaction almost makes the loss worth it.

“Cheer up, dude,” Bert says. “I can’t do what you do, and I’m okay.”

“But you’re like a person born without hearing.” I know I sound gloomy, but I can’t help myself. “Of
course you don’t miss something you never had.”

“I read that people who lose their sight or hearing eventually adjust,” Eugene says. “With time, they become just as happy as they were before the tragedy.”

“Zhenya, what did I tell you about your ability to make people feel better?” Mira’s voice is clipped.

Bert’s phone makes an R2-D2 sound, which I recognize as his text message ringtone.

He
looks at the phone and says, “Sorry, it’s Hillary. She’s still not sure what to do.”

“How is she? How are my moms?” I ask, belatedly remembering that I had Hillary take them to safety.

“They’re all fine,” Bert says. “But Hillary is unsure if she should tell Sara about your situation.”

“She’s got those smart genes,” I say. “Tell her to bring them here, leisurely, under any pretext other than
‘Darren is hurt.’ I’m sure she can make something up. Once they get here, I’ll handle them. If Sara learns about my fractured rib and other mishaps the wrong way, she’ll end up in this hospital with a panic attack.”

“Got it,” Bert says, and his fingers dance on the phone’s keypad.

I yawn. All this talking is very energy-consuming.

Mira notes my yawn with a frown. She then glances at Bert and
Eugene and asks, “Did you two eat anything? Did you sleep?” Sniffing the air, she adds, “For that matter, did either of you shower in the last couple of weeks?”

Bert looks at Eugene as if saying,
She’s your sister, dude.

“We’ll go eat now,” Eugene says. He clearly knows how to handle Mira. “Thanks for the reminder, sis.”

After they exit, Mira gets up, walks over to the door, and demonstratively
closes it. She then takes a chair and props it up, blocking the door. After that, she turns off the bright hospital lights, sits on the bed, and leans in to kiss me.

I return the kiss, trying my best not to say something unmanly, like ‘ouch,’ as I do. I’m enjoying the kiss, but my ribs are less enthusiastic.

She pulls away and says softly, “Why don’t you nap? The doctor said it was okay.”

“Let me try,” I say, unable to stifle another yawn. “It might not work. I set a record when it comes to sleeping today.”

She says nothing and takes my hand in her palm again.

I close my eyes to test things out. The warmth of her touch mixes with the effect of the painkiller, and I drift off.

As I sleep, I have a recurring dream.

Someone wakes me up, asking if I’m okay, and afterwards, someone
sings me a Russian lullaby.

Chapter 29

“I
f you try eating something, I’ll let you get up,” Mira tells me.

I know Mira well enough to recognize an ultimatum when I hear one, so I don’t bother arguing.

Besides, she’s right. I’ve been feeling pretty weak since I’ve woken up, and especially after I tried phasing into the Quiet and failed—again.

My stomach chooses that very moment to growl, and Mira gives me her signature
‘I told you so’ look.

I examine the hospital food she’s brought me, wrinkle my nose, and say, “I’ll try these pseudo-mashed potatoes that I suspect are made from powder.”

“Good,” she says. “The Jell-O is also pretty decent. I had some myself. Even a hospital can’t fuck up Jell-O.”

As I eat, Mira gives me an update on what happened while I was sleeping. The news sites are already covering what
they think happened at the Temple. As she details the elaborate cover-up the Elders—or more likely, some Ambassador—cooked up, I’m glad Bert isn’t here. Hearing about a real-life cover-up would only encourage his tendency to make up conspiracy theories.