 
SELF CONSEQUENCES

by

R.J. Hamilton

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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PUBLISHED BY:

R.J. Hamilton on Smashwords

Self Consequences

Copyright © 2011 by R.J. Hamilton

ISBN: 1461105218

EAN-13: 978-1461105213

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All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

This book is also available in print at most online retailers.

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LOOK FOR THESE OTHER BOOKS

BY R.J. HAMILTON:

The _Self_ Series:

Self Convictions

Self Consciousness

Self Conclusions

And the Hand of God

A Personal Hell: Don't Ask, Don't Tell

Because It Feels Good

&

Dissecting Sean Connor

This book is dedicated to the many inspirations in my life.

FOREWARD

Following in my father's footsteps, I am continuing our story. I am Brielle Hudson, daughter of the late Brandon and Sarah Hudson, sister of the late Bennett Hudson, and granddaughter of Darla Hudson with whom I share a name. My family is gone because of the Society. But like my father, I will not allow them to remain in the shadows.

Rebecca is my companion. She is Donovan's daughter. He was an evil man in the Society who was working with my great-grandfather in an effort to destroy them from within. The only problem was that he wanted to use my brother and me to do it and my father didn't agree. I had to kill him, but not quickly enough to save my dad. Donovan had brainwashed my brother into working with him for the cause. Rebecca and I had to kill him as well.

I am empathic, telekinetic, and can read minds, many talents I'd acquired from my multi-talented parents and a long line of Hudson genes. Rebecca shares the same abilities. Together we are unstoppable.

With Daniel, my great-grandfather's, little black book in-hand, we are going to eliminate the very thing that's taken everything from us but each other, the Society. They will find out that life isn't without consequences.

Chapter 1

New Beginnings

As the divots and bumps in the highway bounce the vehicle on its shocks beneath me, I try to drift off. The sun's rays pour in on my face as we pull around a bend in the road. The orb sits in the middle of the western sky. My sunglasses fend off the light a bit, but not enough. I blindly grab Rebecca's thin black jacket and veil my face. The heat from my breath clouds within the fabric against my face. We've been driving all day, I'm tired, and don't care about the trapped heat. My heavy eyes and hazy brain give in to their sleepy temptations as my heartbeat begins to slow and my breathing deepens.

The sounding caws of seagulls fill my eardrums. Thick humidity is carried on the salt scented air as an oceanic breeze pours in from beside me. My blonde hair waves freely and lazily. I look down to find myself wearing a sky blue, one-piece swimsuit with a silky white wrap around my waist. I look into my reflection to the left on a round window beside me. My thick, white sunglasses stare back from the face contained within. I observe the scenery to my right. I lean against the ship's metal railing. Clear blue water with small caps of white randomly dancing in the distance. There is nothing visible in the horizon, blue water meets blue sky. The bright sun penetrates my skin warmly like a hug.

"I've finally found you," a familiar voice sounds from behind me and I turn to face her with a smile. Rebecca's eyes are filled with darkness and an evil smirk decorates her face. An invisible grip finds my larynx as my breathing becomes nearly impossible. My grin subsides with the sudden pain.

"Rebecca...what are you doing?" I strain to gasp out the words as the squeezing intensifies. I reach for my defensive abilities in response, but it's too late. My body flies over the railing and into the open air beside the ship. I see the water stories below as I begin to plummet downward toward it. The wake of the water brushes against the side of the vessel and the water splashes upward. The ocean's surface nears quickly as I fall. I hit it like cement. Unconsciousness overtakes me as my mind exits my body. I watch myself as I begin to sink into the clear water. The ship's current pulls me toward it. I drift closer and closer to the back. A propeller cuts through the water like a gigantic knife. I float lifelessly into the beckoning current, closer and closer.

I jump suddenly in my seat as I gasp for desperately needed air. I bat the jacket away from my face madly.

"What the hell's the matter with you, Brie?" Rebecca asks frightfully. I immediately block her from reading my mind. She can't know that my self-conscious is second-guessing my trust for her. It would hurt her. It takes me a moment to gather my thoughts and my breath. I wipe my eyes and forehead with the coat.

"Nothing, I'm sorry. I had a dream about Bennett. It was so real, it really freaked me out," I lie. She pats my thigh gently. I try to avoid flinching as the images are still vivid in my mind.

"He's gone now, Brielle, you don't have anything to worry about. Besides, I'm here to protect you." She smiles at me. I smile back as realistically as possible.

"I know." My eyes go to my window and I continue to process the dream without allowing her access to my thoughts. The sun begins to kiss the horizon.

Chapter 2

Pit Stop

With the night well upon us, I suggest to Rebecca we find a place to stop for the night. With a couple days under our belts, we pay the man at the tollbooth on Interstate 70 and pull away. The lights from Topeka, KS illuminate the sky ahead. They are open arms inviting us in for a nighttime hug and restful slumber. Neither of us is familiar with the area. Having not planned ahead, I juggle my phone from my pocket and access its navigation system. I punch in "hotel Topeka, KS" and wait for the results to populate.

"There's one just around this corner, Rebecca," I announce. The top of the brick building and a well-lit sign show themselves just as I make the statement.

"Yeah, now if I can figure out how to get to it," she replies as we both begin searching for our exit. The weathered green of the copper finished capital building sits brilliantly within the city to our left as it pokes out from between the downtown's structures.

"I'm gonna venture to guess it's that one," I point at an upcoming turn-off. Rebecca steers toward it and slows down. One-way signs stand in our way. She goes straight ahead and takes the next left.

"That wasn't as bad as I thought it was gonna be," she says as the car pulls into a small parking lot in front of the hotel. We find a spot and park. We rummage through the trunk grabbing only what we need for our overnight stay. We know there is a chapter located in the city, but they aren't our main concern right now, a nice comfortable bed is what we need.

Rebecca closes the trunk with her bag in-hand and we go inside. The hotel is several stories high and dark on the outside. The inside isn't that well-lit either, but it is quaint, small, and cozy. We approach the desk. A meek looking Midwestern girl with black-framed glasses greets us without a smile. She is short and her hair is dyed black. She doesn't look as though she's been out of high school for very long, if at all, possibly nearing graduation. It feels as though we are bothering her more than anything. A book lays open on the countertop, its cover is seriously worn and the creases on the spine expose the use even further. Though the greeting isn't pleasant, we thank her and go to the elevator with our room card keys. We get in and go up to the third floor.

Our room is close to the elevator. An ice machine tucked into a short hallway makes a clunking sound as we pass. Ours is the next room to the right just passed the noisy machine. Rebecca slides the card and opens the door after the green light permits. I follow her inside, close, and lock it behind me. A dank mustiness enters my nostrils. It's not an offensive smell, but it's not terribly pleasant either. It's a combination of stale cigarettes and possible moldy moisture.

There's a bathroom to the left and the room opens to a small living space. We chose a room with a king-sized bed. The comforter is outdated, but the pillows look plump and inviting. We each set our bags on chairs by a little round table, retrieve our toothbrushes, brush, and go to bed. It doesn't take long for me to pass out.

Chapter 3

Visions of Sugarplums

As soon as Brielle and I hit the bed, I am unconscious. My mind drifts into dreamland. The night sky is bright with a full moon floating carelessly high overhead. My shoes traipse along the pavement beneath them. A random pebble is kicked off onto the well-maintained grass beside the path. A fairly warm breeze flows gently through the trees onto my face as my dark hair waves about. Clumps of wildflowers wave at me as I pass, their buds closed for the evening. Frogs croak nearby and crickets chirp noisily.

A sudden emotion of dread overcomes me. The feeling of someone staring from behind invades my brain. I look over my shoulder quickly hoping to catch an unexpected glance. _You'd better run, bitch,_ echoes in my head, a foreign but familiar voice. My nerves send their signals to the rest of my body. My heart begins to pound sporadically and my breathing quickens. It takes me a moment to reflect and realize that the voice I'd heard was Brielle's, but not Brielle's at the same time. It was hollow and haunted, ghastly and possessed. I begin to pick up the pace. My usual braveness has escaped me. Normally I'd face an attacker, but my body won't allow it.

A telekinetic force nudges the back of my skull and pushes me forward. It's not one to injure, it feels like a taunting shove. I nearly fall on my face as I stumble. Once my coordination is regained, I start to run. The urgency to get away takes over. The pebbles crunch against the asphalt and my soles. A lock of hair slaps into my mouth as the wind catches it and throws it there. I quickly reach up and set it free so it can join the rest of my locks which are waving behind me.

I see a small arc of a bridge ahead. I will stand my ground there. It gets nearer and nearer with every stride. The difference between the tar underfoot and the angle of the wood is unexpected. My sneaker slips and I lose my balance. The night's settling humidity has the wood saturated on the surface. My right knee crunches against the bridge's planks painfully. I instinctually roll onto my back almost immediately. Brielle is walking calmly toward me. Her eyes are filled with darkness and hatred, their usual angelic brilliance is void. She doesn't use actual words to communicate with me, only telepathic speech.

I warned you, bitch! Now I'll have to kill you!

"Brielle, stop it! Please, stop it now!" I plead with her. I am weak from the fall. An all too familiar pain begins drilling into my head and my eyes begin to water instantly. I try to dig deep within my own soul to bring forth the powers that I possess, but it doesn't work. The drill buries itself deeper and deeper as her blackened eyes dig themselves within. My heart flutters and misses beats as it palpates with irregularity. My lungs close violently. Vomit begins to find its way up from my stomach and the acids start to burn at my throat.

Chapter 4

Alone & Scared

Rebecca lurches violently beside me into an upright position. Her action makes me jump as well. Her hands go to her throat as she gasps for air. She turns to her side of the bed and throws up. The liquid hits the thin carpet with a splat and echoes in my ears. I resist my own urges to follow as I gag. I reach for her shoulder and she pushes me away. She holds up a hand as if to motion that she needs a moment. I respect her wishes and wait patiently for answers. I get out of the bed and go to the bathroom to retrieve a towel for cleaning up the mess.

When I return to the sleeping area, she's sitting on the bed with her arms around her knees pulled tightly in toward her. Her head is placed on her folded arms like she had been in the alley when we'd first met. She is sobbing quietly. I sit on the bed after tossing the towel neatly over the pile of excrement on the floor. Her body shifts away from me slightly in order to avoid toppling sideways. I place a slowly and hand gently on her shoulder so she has the option to reject my compassion again if she chooses.

"What's wrong, Rebecca?" I ask as softly as I can trying not to force a response. I wait a few silent moments and then try to gather a thought from her mind. She has me blocked.

"Don't do that, Brie," she says from beneath her arms quietly. I pull back my attempt to read her mind.

"I'm sorry, I just want to know what's wrong," I explain.

"I really don't wanna talk about it." Her words are muffled a bit. "I had a bad dream. Can we just leave it at that?" I'm not satisfied with her answer, but I don't want to upset her more. I pat her on the shoulder acknowledging my respect for her wishes and go to the television. She lays back down facing the wall opposite me. I fall back to sleep full of worry and wondering why she's decided to shut me out. Sometimes people need time and I respect that.

Chapter 5

Mystery Man

He lies in his big, comfortable hotel bed wearing only pajama pants. He is in his twenties and his body is perfectly formed. His medium length, black hair falls back toward his pillow lazily. His bright, jade-green eyes stare up at the white ceiling tiles. They are brilliant in color and stand out against the darkness of his hair and skin. He revels in his abilities, his invasion of minds through dreams.

Anger and revenge are his main motivations, but he also knows there is a plan. A plan his father had shared with him many years ago. The main idea is strength, not for the Society, but for their survival. The longevity of a race of people, ones with more power than the Society itself could ever control. They've lost their grasp. Brandon Hudson managed to expose them before he died. His book, _Self Convictions,_ is available for the general public to read. The Society is no longer a secret one. It's a slow process, but once the word spreads they are going to have to go into deeper hiding than ever before.

He manages a smile through the exhaustion of his power usage. Memories of the past trickle into his brain, the mansion in Paris and the chapter in London were he'd spent most of his childhood and teen years. His father had sent him to England shortly after the twins had come to the mansion.

"I can't have you here while I'm trying to get them ready," he'd said. "Their mother is quite the feisty one and she's dangerous. Solitude is the best thing for them right now. I will come to visit you as often as I can, I promise." He kissed him on the forehead and he'd kept his promise.

That is, until a couple of weeks ago. They were supposed to have met for dinner again. It hadn't been very long since they'd seen each other, but he was looking forward to the visit. The news came from Donovan himself. His father had been killed by the Hudson's. The Society hadn't done much to assist in his revenge. The Society has always been out for their personal gain and his parents had their own plans. He wasn't sure how much the Society had known about his father's non-Society schemes. But he is finally a part of those plans and is happy to be. The loss of his father had been the final straw and he knew right then that it was time, time to set the plan in motion.

He scoops his hands behind his head and through his hair as his fingers intertwine beneath. _Rebecca and Brielle have no idea what they're up against and I will get what I want_ , he thinks. His eyelids close slowly as he drifts into a pleasant slumber. _That's enough for one evening. Our introductions will come soon enough._ He fades off.

The moonlight shines brightly through the open window of his hotel room. The same light is shared with the girls' room directly across the street. Rebecca sleeps still facing the wall in a tight fetal ball as Brielle fights the worry for her friend beside her. Her eyes flicker as sleep comes and goes. She fears the reoccurrence of the dream from the night before. And the constant feeling and the uneasiness of being watched won't shake from her mind.

Chapter 6

Joshua's Story

A couple of weeks prior and halfway across the world, Staff Sergeant Joshua Pruitt calmly sits, but is on edge in the passenger's seat of his Humvee. The divots in the road echo into his crotch and through his stomach as the truck's shocks fail in an attempt to absorb the deep holes. They've traveled this road many times in the past, but Route Redwings is known to be one of the most dangerous routes in Iraq, located just southeast of Baghdad. All of the soldiers scan and watch as chatter from headquarters spills from their radio. Josh has become accustomed to the noise and filters through it, ignoring the things that are unimportant.

Heat from the midday Iraqi sun pours in through the Humvee's window and onto his protective body armor and helmet. After months of being in the country, he has gotten used to the heat enough to tolerate it, but he can't wait to get back to the base for a cool shower. He tries not to let his mind wander, vigilance is important when the threat of improved explosive devices, or IEDs, threaten their very existence.

His dark brown hair peeks from under the confines of his helmet and is wedged between the elastic chin-strap where it connects to the base of the Kevlar. His reflection bounces off of the windshield. His honey-brown eyes sparkle brilliantly against his deeply sun-soaked skin. Little droplets of sweat trickle down his forehead and his back. He takes a quick sip of cool water from a bottle sitting beside him. He replaces the lid and puts it back in its place.

He watches the sides of the road and the dust cloud as it kicks up from behind the truck in front of him, they are second in the convoy of four vehicles. The hiss of the turret sounds from above as his gunner sways and scans his area looking for potential threats. Palm trees sway gently in the breeze beside the road. Their leaves are gray from the road's dust being stirred up and settling on top of them. The green underbelly flashes quietly with the wind as if waving. The Army sends a few convoys through daily. They've been trying to get a grasp on the IED threats. There have been many explosions over the years since the United States Army's inhabitance of Iraq. Route Redwings had just recently been reopened and they've been traveling it often. Constant enough in hopes that an IED maker won't have time to rig a device on the road.

Suddenly, it happens. Josh sees the bomb just before it detonates. It is placed a few feet off the road in a pile of small rocks. His instincts kick in immediately. His power surges against the blast as the IED explodes next to the lead vehicle. The explosion rocks the earth and rattles the soldiers' brains inside their heads. Their ears ring loudly. The rocks and debris blows up into the air from the crater. Joshua remains focused on the blast. He directs the rubble away from his friends. The chunks slam against an invisible wall, inches from the side of the truck. With the blast comes confusion, nobody notices as the color returns to Josh's eyes and the white illumination fades. The chatter over the radio continues, only more loudly and in the form of an IED report back to HQ.

"Holy shit, did you see that!" His driver yells from beside him. "That was crazy!" Pruitt agrees with him quickly as the vehicles hurriedly speed away from the area. Sometimes ambushes follow an IED blast and the soldiers know they need to get out of there as quickly as they can. Joshua smiles contently to himself as his ears ring from inside his Kevlar and his heart rate begins to slow with his breathing under his protective vest. _It's not the first time,_ he thinks to himself as his eyes go back to watching the road and the convoy continues its travels back to the camp located a few miles away.

****

Brandon walks down a sidewalk in downtown Dallas, Texas with a large manila envelope in-hand. He'd made plans to meet with a man upon arrival to the United States, but certain events had slowed things down. He also didn't want Brielle to know, not yet. He notices the numbers marking the correct address of the building and goes inside. He walks into the lobby and goes into the elevator. As the doors open, he checks the suite numbers' locations on a board affixed to the opposite wall, and he gets off. He takes a right in the correct direction of travel. The hallway is plain, white in color, the doorways and small windows are painted a dark brown, almost black. The brown carpet is thin, he notices beneath the soles of his shoes.

He finds the room he is looking for. The words _Johnson's Publications_ are in computer print on a plain piece of white copy paper and the page hangs in front of the window by a couple of crookedly torn pieces of clear tape. He goes inside and closes the door behind himself. The room is barren, no decorations, no secretary, and no waiting room, there's just a desk with an elderly man sitting alone. The man stands calmly and with much effort as he uses both hands to push himself up from the chair to greet Brandon.

"Nice to finally meet you, Brandon," he stretches a hand for greeting. "I've heard a lot about you," he adds. Brandon grabs the envelope from his right hand and moves it to his left to return the pleasantry.

"It's good to meet you in person as well, Mr. Johnson." The old man's eyes go to the package in Brandon's hand as their handshake concludes. Their hands drop to their sides.

"Call me Andy please. Is that it then, the manuscript?" Mr. Johnson asks shakily. Brandon holds it outward and looks at it for a moment before the actual handoff.

"Yeah," he answers. He recaps occurrences quickly through his mind hoping he hasn't missed any important details in the manuscript.

"Are you sure you're making the right decision?" Andy inquires. "Those people are pretty powerful."

"I know that's why it can't wait any longer, Mr. Johnson."

"Just Andy please," he says quickly and under his breath, "I can have it ready within the week. I've been doing this a long time. I'm kind of freelancing and under the table right now due to retirement, but I have a lot of friends in high places. Will that be soon enough for you?"

"The sooner the better, I don't know how much longer I've got. I apologize for the handwriting. You've got your work cut out for you." Brandon giggles a little in uneasiness. "I need Brielle to know the truth and I don't want her to have to live this way for the rest of her life. They need to be stopped."

"I'll take care of it, Brandon." His hand goes out and Brandon hands the envelope over. His frail old fingers grasp the package tightly and with much effort due to unexpected weight. Brandon smiles at Andy.

"Thank you, Mr. Johnson," he turns to the door and walks away before the man can remind him again of his first name. _The Society isn't going to be a secret organization for much longer,_ Brandon thinks to himself as he gets back into the elevator and drives back to the mansion.

****

The convoy arrives safely back at camp as the soldiers get out of their trucks to clear their weapons. They go to the sand-filled barrels, pull back the charging handles, look down into the chamber, and pull the triggers. Once the entire crew has finished, they get back into the Humvees and continue toward their barracks.

The beads of sweat dripping down Joshua's back are nearing unbearable. He feels soggy through and through. The trucks roll slowly along as he watches out the window. Soldiers walk along gabbing and carrying bags from the base's Post Exchange. Their Aussie style caps are pulled down tightly around their chins by drawstrings so they don't lose them in the desert wind. Josh notices as their tan boots kick up the fine moon dust into puffy clouds. A lone plastic sack tumbles by gently in the distance flashing _PX_ in red as it sails along.

Another bead of sweat makes its way down his back into dark uncomfortable places. All he can think about now that they're back onto the camp is a cool shower. The truck pulls up next to one of numerous cookie-cutter barracks buildings and the engine is turned off. The men grab their gear and go to their rooms.

Joshua takes his assault rucksack, a small camouflage backpack-like bag, and walks up the stairs onto a small wooden deck they'd built when they'd first arrived. The shower trailers are silent, he notices as he passes them. He goes into the building and directly up the stairwell to the second floor where his room is located. He unlocks the door and goes inside, setting his bag down near the entrance. He then quickly removes his gear, grabs his shower things, and goes to do the thing he's been thinking about all day.

He stands under the water for a moment. It is set intentionally to a cooler, almost unbearably cold temperature. He places his hands against the wall as the liquid pours down over his body and closes his eyes.

He remembers his childhood in rural, small town Ohio and his wonderful parents who'd adopted him when he was just a baby. He writes them once a week and calls whenever he can. They aren't doing so well these days. They'd adopted him at an older age because his mother couldn't have children. Due to his father's then lack of maturity, they'd decided to wait until they were both in their mid-forties. Josh is now in his mid-twenties.

He recalls when he'd first discovered his gifts. His father was working on his car in their driveway. He was underneath it. The jack stand toppled as the vehicle began to roll on the slight incline. The front tires stopped on his father's ribs and were crushing him. Joshua began to panic and his mother wasn't home at the time. His five-year-old emotions began to run high as his father yelled in pain from beneath the car. He felt the heat building within him and the next thing he knew the car was rolling back up the hill. His father had enough time to escape from beneath the vehicle. As he cleared the way, Joshua lost his mental grip and the car continued its way down the hill. His dad had a couple of bruised ribs, but was fine. His mother and father are the only ones who know about his abilities, or so he thinks.

Joshua opens his eyes and starts to clean himself. After months in Iraq, the benefits of having nothing to do besides working out daily have paid off. He admires himself for a moment and rinses off. He dresses and goes back to his room. With the sun setting, he grabs a book off the shelf and lies down on the cheap mattress the Army has provided him. He begins to read, but only manages to keep his eyes open for a couple of minutes.

The moonlight shines down on him brightly. A gently flowing breeze touches the sides of his military buzzed head. A lake laps lazily at the shoreline several feet from the sidewalk. He strolls along in khaki shorts, a white logo t-shirt, and sneakers. He admires the bright reflection of the moon on the surface of the rippling water and thinks about the freedom of nature. Fish swim lazily beneath the water, frogs croaking noisily, and bats fly ambitiously capturing bugs from the air.

After a few hundred feet of walking and dreaming, he looks up ahead. She's sitting there like she always is. He knew he'd see her. He knew this part of the dream would come. His heart begins to race as he gets closer. She is facing the other way sitting atop a picnic table. Her feet are placed on the bench. Her light blonde hair floats lazily about her head. He gets within reach and she turns to face him. Her crystal blue eyes are wondrous and deeply hypnotic to him. She smiles brightly, but only for a moment. The left side of her face begins to change like an overlying faded split-screen. Half of her blonde hair turns black and her left eye turns a deep brown. It isn't a violent sight, it's sudden and unexpected, but it's a gently transformation. Josh backs up a bit as the girl begins to speak.

"Please help us," she says softly. Her voices come out in perfect unison, but are layered and noticeably different. She reaches for him.

Josh jumps in his bed, the air conditioner blows nearby, but the sweat still glistens on his wide chest. He slows his breath as he realizes the reality of his location. He's been having dreams about the girl for as long as he can remember. The dreams are in different places, but she's always there. This was the first time she'd spoken and the first time she'd shifted in that way. She haunts him almost every night.

He quickly grabs the journal from beneath his mattress and begins to jot down the occurrence. The pages are filled with visions of her. He quickly finishes, replaces the diary, and goes back to sleep with thoughts of her in his mind.

A week later they are in a convoy rolling down the main streets of Baghdad again. They patrol daily, but it's not every day something interesting happens. SSG Pruitt sweats and watches the children as they play soccer in the litter-filled fields. Their bare, callused feet patter across the empty lots toward the tattered goal nets as they kick the ball. Elderly and middle-aged women hang their laundry out over the ledges of their rooftops. The dust floats about on a gentle breeze and a thick scent of rotting garbage fills the air. It blows in from the vehicle's vents and into his nostrils.

He observes the tops of the buildings and the sides of the roads for any possible threats. His gunner does the same with a rotation of the turret. Back and forth, back and forth it goes as he scans. The trucks putter along slowly and steadily. The noise from their loud engines is disruptive to the peaceful afternoon and bounces off the walls of the houses around them. A glimmer from above catches Josh's eye. The light sparkles near the top of a mosque across the street just a couple hundred yards to their front. He gets on the radio immediately.

"Red 3, this is Red 2! Stop your truck! There's potential enemy contact to our 11 o'clock!" The vehicle ahead of him comes to a halt. He has his driver pull to the side of the road opposite the one in front. The front gunner quickly pivots his turret in the direction he'd described on the radio. Josh opens the heavy alloy door and jumps out. His two passengers immediately follow. They gather near the back of the lead vehicle and Josh describes what he'd seen.

"There's a sniper up on that mosque," he tells the truck commander of the lead vehicle. "Jones and Andrews go over there," he points to a wall filled with holes across the street. "Torres, you come with me." They run to their assigned locations as Josh and Michael Torres sprint to the front of the convoy. The others are watching in confusion, but quickly realize where they're going. Suddenly, a shot rings out as dust kicks up next to Josh. His heart pounds even harder than it already is as they duck behind cover and point their weapons toward the sniper. Josh is the first to fire at the enemy and the blasts begin as a spitfire of bullets start to fly. The other soldiers follow suit and .50 caliber machine guns rock their barrels loudly behind them as bits of the building begin to shatter and fall to the earth below.

SSG Pruitt watches beyond the sights of his weapon as the sniper tucks his body tightly behind cover, avoiding the borage of gunfire. Content with his position, the enemy begins to take aim again and readies his gun for another attack. Josh focuses on the sniper's face. It is too far for an accurate hit. He digs deep within himself. The breeze begins to increase around him and Torres. Dust and bits of sand start to circulate around their bodies. A particle of the debris gets into Torres' eye, but he keeps firing his weapon, in the proper direction but blindly. The trapped heat inside Josh's body armor increases dramatically. His brain feels like it's on fire. He knows there is enough power stored for a forceful mental attack. He lets it course through his veins and out his whitened eyes. An explosion of stone and chunks of building blasts from the side of the structure directly below the assailant's roost. He drops his weapon as the building crumbles beneath him. The AK47 falls to the ground below and discharges a few rounds. It then lies silent. His body topples toward the rocky rubble below. The gunfire from the soldiers stops as he hits the earth, lifeless and crumpled. Chunks of the mosque continue to fall. Large bits crush the sniper. Josh contains his powers and his eye's coloring returns. Torres hasn't noticed while he's blinking out the dirt and trying to see the events before them. A few moments later the dust snows to a settling mist. They return to the vehicles, radio HQ, and wait for the people to come to assess the damages. Joshua is hot, sweaty, and exhausted. It takes a couple of hours before they get to return to camp.

He allows the cool water to run gloriously down his body as he daydreams. This, besides the morning two-hour trips to the gym, has become a daily routine. He finishes and goes to his room. As he lies down with his book, there is a pounding on his door. It echoes in the room and makes him jump up to answer. As he opens it, wearing only boxer shorts, he sees his Company Commander and his First Sergeant is standing behind him. The Company Commander is a soft-spoken, nerdy little man with glasses. He's only five and a half feet tall which is short compared to Josh's six feet and two inches. He goes to attention out of respect for the rank.

"Sir?" he asks, he isn't used to his Company Commander being around let alone knocking on his door.

"Staff Sergeant Pruitt, the Colonel wants you over at the Headquarters building right away." His voice is quiet and a little shaky. A million questions begin to filter through Joshua's mind, but none seem to make any sense.

"Yes, Sir, right away," he answers and begins to scramble for his things. He throws on his uniform and his boots. He quickly tugs at his top to ensure it's as wrinkle-free as possible. He grabs his hat and slings his M4 over his shoulder. He exits the room. His First Sergeant is still there waiting.

"Pruitt, you don't need your weapon. I'll take it." His voice is deep and weathered from his years as a drill sergeant. The remark strikes Josh as an odd one, but an order is an order. He hands his gun to him and heads down the stairs quickly.

The travel to the Headquarters building doesn't take very long. He walks without haste across an open field of smooth dirt. The building is fairly large, constructed of cement and rebar to withstand any mortar attacks. Familiar flags fly out in front of the building, the brigade's unit flags and insignia, the Army's flag, and the United States Stars and Stripes. He enters the main door and is greeted by a desk manned by two lower-ranking personnel.

"Can I get your ID card, Staff Sergeant? I need to give you a badge." A skinny Private First Class requests respectfully, but in a monotone manner, boredom and monotony. SSG Pruitt takes his card from its plastic windowed containment as it hangs around his neck and hands it to the young man. The PFC writes down some numbers in his log and gives Joshua a badge with a number and a metal clip to attach to his left breast pocket. He points to the door to Josh's right and he goes inside.

A dusty staircase leads up to the second floor. The Colonel's office is located in the middle of the three floors with the rest of the high-ranking individuals'. Josh nears the top of the stairs and begins searching for the correct room. He peeks into room after room and eventually finds a Major sitting at his desk.

"Sir, could you direct me to the Colonel's office?" he asks while standing in the doorway at the position of attention. The Major looks up from his paperwork and points to the end of the hallway. Joshua thanks him and continues on his way. A nameplate sits above the door to the correct office. He knocks on the door.

"Come in," shouts the inhabitant. He turns the knob and goes to the front of the Colonel's desk. He renders a salute.

"SSG Pruitt reporting as ordered, Sir," he announces. The Colonel says nothing as he stands.

"Follow me, Staff Sergeant," he says as he passes Josh. He drops his ignored salute and turns toward the man smartly as he exits the room. They walk to the end of the hall and enter a big room containing several chairs placed around a highly polished wooden desk. At one end sits a gray-haired man. Joshua recognizes him immediately by the four silver stars on the beret sitting directly in front of him on the desk. His heart begins to pound roughly as butterflies begin to flutter around in his stomach. The General is accompanied by two men in plain black suits, civilians. The Colonel announces their arrival and salutes.

"Your dismissed, Colonel," the General says plainly. The Colonel's mouth opens for a moment and then closes again as he swallows his words. He leaves the room closing the door behind him. Joshua remains still. He has no idea what reason the General would have to meet with him.

"Have a seat, SSG Pruitt," he interrupts Josh's thoughts. He immediately acknowledges and executes by sitting in the chair near the General as instructed. He sits with perfect posture and places his hands on his thighs. "We know what you can do, SSG. The Pentagon knows about your abilities." Joshua's mind begins to race and his mouth becomes dry as the General blurts out the words. "We've known for awhile actually."

"With all due respect, I don't know what you're talking about, Sir," Josh lies. He's been careful in using his powers his entire life and can't understand how anyone could know. He's never told a soul.

"SSG Pruitt, there's no reason to lie to me. I told you, I already know." He reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out a book. He tosses the book onto the table with a smack and it spins toward Josh. He slides the book the remaining way to see the cover. Dark eyes stare at him from a man's pale face. The title reads _Self Convictions._ The background is black and empty beyond the face.

"What's this, Sir?" Joshua asks respectfully.

"I was hoping you'd be able to answer that question."

"No, Sir, I've never seen this book before in my life."

"It's just recently been published. The most we've been able to find out is that the publisher and writer are both dead now." Josh looks up at him, his face is seriously somber.

"What do I have to do with this situation, Sir?" Josh is more confused than before knowing why the General needed to see him.

"You're going back to the States tonight. You will fly out with me and my security people." More confusion sets in. "There is a girl, the daughter of the man who wrote this. She needs help and we need answers. I want you to read the book and be ready for anything. The government is working on finding these Society's Mr. Hudson talks about." Josh's face shows his bewilderment. "Just worry about the girl. We'll take care of the rest." The General stands and renders SSG Pruitt a salute. Josh stands and returns the gesture. As his hand drops he says, "We'll be leaving at 0001 hours. Be at the helipad 15 minutes prior."

"Yes, Sir," Josh responds and he goes to pack his things. They'll be departing in a few hours, not much time.

The men stand in the darkness as the light from the helicopter comes down from the sky and hits the pavement below. The wind is intense and the dirt flies wildly about. A civilian man motions for the other men to board the chopper, Josh complies as the dust smacks him in the face. He keeps his body crouched as he runs toward the bird and gets inside. His lips are tightly clenched in order to avoid any foreign dusty entry. His copy of _Self Convictions_ slaps against his thigh in the right cargo pocket of his Army Combat Uniform, or ACU. He sits in the farthest seat and quickly buckles the five-point harness attached. The helicopter is soon in the air and flying into the night high above the city.

Chapter 7

Self Convictions

We got up and started getting ready to go out for something to eat. My stomach is growling from hunger pangs. Rebecca is standoffish and still won't tell me why. I let her use the shower first as I try to catch up on some of the news around Kansas. The disappearance of a local woman, somewhere north of Topeka, is reported, an art event, sports, and then it moves on to the weather. The meteorologist reports nice, summerlike temperatures. The wind is something of an issue though. I decide that's enough news and weather for one day. I change it from channel 13 and start to channel surf. I find a sitcom. A witty comment catches my attention immediately, so I stop flipping the channels. I haven't watched television much, well not since I was a little kid, but I don't really remember that. I let the jokes course through my mind and laugh a bit.

Rebecca comes out of the shower. She's drying her hair with her head tilted to one side as she rubs vigorously.

"Feel better?" I ask her.

"Yeah, a little, but I'm starving," she responds. I have Rebecca back, some of her anyway. I get up from the edge of the bed and go to the bathroom. I touch her shoulder as I pass and she doesn't shy away from me. I'll take that as a good sign. I crack a tiny smile and go to shower.

****

The helicopter flies through the air steadily as they near another base not far from the one they'd taken off from. His original camp is only a few miles south of the main United States Armed Forces makeshift airport. Joshua recognizes the site from the sky. It's the same place he and his troops had landed when they flew into Baghdad initially. Butterflies still flutter about in his stomach and, as the bird begins to descend, they flit about more wildly. He doesn't know what to think about his current situation. He doesn't know what to expect. He _does_ know that he's on his way back to the United States and that is a comforting thought in itself. It doesn't slow the interior flapping of butterflies wings though. He wishes it would. Also, knowing that others know about his abilities is unsettling. He's been careful all his life. He'd made sure not to use them where people could see. He'd spent his life perfecting them secretly. How they know, he has no idea, but they know and that's all that matters.

The dust begins to kick up around them as the helicopter lands lightly on the tarmac below. Orders begin to be shouted as a ground person, a Private, comes to the aircraft.

"Sir, follow me!" he yells from beside the craft after saluting the General. His ear protection tilts slightly and the connecting bar across the top sits at a 45 degree angle to the front of his forehead. He looks frazzled and tense. The General unbuckles immediately and Josh follows suit. They leap from the bird and onto the tar. Joshua follows closely behind. They cross the tarmac to a small jet located a couple hundred feet away. Everything is a blur to SSG Pruitt. He can't gather his thoughts properly. He just does what he's told. They quickly shoot up the mobile stairs on wheels and board the aircraft. Another service member waits atop the stairs and salutes the General. _How annoying and tedious that must get,_ Josh thinks, regarding the constant saluting as they go inside.

There is finally a bit of peace within the craft. The General directs him to his seat with a finger pointing toward the rear of the aircraft.

"SSG Pruitt, you've got some reading to tend to," he says quietly.

"Yes, Sir," Josh responds as he walks away from the General toward the back of the plane. He places his bag in the overhead compartment. He removes _Self Convictions_ from his cargo pocket before sitting and buckling his seatbelt. The captain makes an announcement over the PA system.

"We'll be arriving at Fort Riley in approximately ten hours." The words enter Josh's skull and bounce around for a second before his gut begins to settle. He opens the book and begins to educate himself.

****

We go down to the parking lot and get into the car, Rebecca drives. She pulls out of the lot and onto the street. We don't know where we're going, all we know is we want something to eat. She takes a right out of the parking lot and another immediate right and starts to drive. After a couple of blocks, I see a sign _Kansas River_ it reads as we begin over the bridge.

The view is pretty. The water is far below and brown, it's not at all inviting for a swim, still a nice view nonetheless. A gust of wind hits the side of the car and pushes us a little. Rebecca's knuckles turn white as she grips the wheel for steadiness. The trees tower high above the river below. The sandbars look up at the cars on the bridge above due to the low level of water. Erosion has affected the banks tremendously, but they are also way above the water flowing peacefully below. The bridge looks fairly new. Black lanterns line the outsides. There is a sidewalk for pedestrians to cross over from one side to the other. The walkway is between thick cement walls about waist-level on either side.

"I think we're going away from the city," Rebecca's announcement suddenly breaks my thought process.

"I don't know. If you think we should turn around go right ahead."

"As soon as we get across, I see a road up ahead. I'll turn there." Rebecca seems confident. I'm not worried. She's protected me in the past. We arrive at the traffic light and merge into the center lane. She turns left onto the street and then pulls into the nearest driveway to turn around. We get back onto the road and cross over the Kansas River once again. I see the Capital Building from last night. The weathered copper green is bright and brilliant. An archer stands atop the dome with his bow and arrow toward the sky, _Ad Astra,_ I think to myself. I've heard that somewhere before, but I can't remember where. I think it means _to the stars_ or _to the heavens_ or something like that. My mind immediately goes to my parents. A lump forms in my throat and pressure builds in my eyes. I choke the emotions back. To the stars is right, the heavenly stars, stars in which my parents are now a part of. I push the thoughts from my head. I don't feel like crying right now.

"How's that place look, Brielle?" Rebecca asks as she points up ahead to a little red-roofed restaurant.

"I don't care, I'm starving and it really doesn't matter," I reply. She pulls the car into the lot and we eat until we're beyond stuffed.

After lunch, we stop at a small strip mall and decide to check out a couple of the stores. We look at clothes for a little while and try on a few things. I decide to get a couple of shirts. We move on to the next store, a bookstore. We wander around for a bit and then I see it! I recognize the face on the cover immediately! It's my father! How did my father get on the cover of a book? I pick it up and read the back.

"Oh my God, Rebecca, do you see this?" I ask her excitedly.

"What?" she asks as she approaches.

"This is my dad's book!" I immediately stifle my loudness and my hand goes to my mouth after realizing I'd been too loud. "He mentions the Society and his powers on the back. I knew he'd been writing, but I didn't know he'd gotten it published. I have to get this." My excitement is hard to contain as I near the counter. I quickly take the cash out of my purse and give it to the cashier. "I don't need a bag, thanks." I tell the girl behind the counter as she goes to put it in one. She gives a gesture of _saves me the trouble_ and hands me the book and receipt. My excitement to read it is overly evident. Rebecca tells me to calm down a little in a whisper. I laugh excitedly as we near the car and go back to the hotel.

****

As he reads _Self Convictions,_ Josh is amazed by the fact that there are others like him. He hadn't realized the possibility. He doesn't know where he came from, being adopted he'd never known and neither had his parents. They'd been honest about his adoption since the beginning. They wanted him to know early rather than question it later. Doing as the General wants him to, is going to be even easier now. Maybe he'll find out where he came from. Maybe he won't like the answer he gets, but at least he'll know. He continues to read as they get closer and closer to Fort Riley, Kansas.

****

Brielle lies in the bed at the hotel after they'd stopped for a pack of cigarettes for Rebecca. Rebecca sits and watches television as Brie is propped up with several pillows against the headboard, enthralled in her book

I start the book _Self Convictions_ with excitement. I understand my father's confusion throughout the process. I am so happy that I had parents with abilities. I'm sure I'd have been just as lost as he was without them. I feel the anguish and loneliness he felt as he was growing up. I continued to read. I never got to know my grandmother, either of them. It is nice to get a feel for them as well.

She tried so hard, his mother. I have mixed emotions about Matthew, my grandfather, my father's father, but I understand the power the Society has over people.

I get to a part that is rather unsettling, a rape. My father raped a girl, my father? My brain becomes ridden with distraught emotions as the violence is described so vividly. The abuse and destructiveness hurts my brain. A lone tear falls free from the confines of its duct and rolls down my cheek. I love my father. How could he do that to her? I place the book down on my lap for a moment as I try to gather my emotions. I take a deep breath, wait a second, and then begin again. My mind keeps going back to that scene painfully. The incident with the kittens was one thing, he was a kid.

My great-grandfather was a crazy man. When my father killed him, that blew my mind, but I didn't feel as remorseful as I probably should've considering the situation.

The mysteries begin to unravel before me as I speedily read along the crisp white pages. I picture my father's face. It's a face before Paris, before the coma, before our incident in Texas, it's the face I remember when I was a little girl. The handsome man who loved and cared with his entire being about the safety of his family. Even when our mother was sick, he stayed strong. He never gave up on me, our mother, and especially not Bennett. That was his weakness, compassion. I stare at the words, but my eyes stop moving along the page. My mind goes back to the scene at the mansion in Dallas. My father's death flashes before my eyes. After all he'd done, did he deserve it? I ask myself the question and then answer, I don't think so. After all the wrongdoings, he did a lot of things right to make up for it.

I continue along the pages. Daniel, my great-grandmother, he introduces the Society and finally, my mother. I remember the beauty he describes so elegantly. I recall everything about her. It seems like only yesterday when she'd kiss us good-bye before going to work as a cocktail waitress at the casino, beautiful and perfect. Our lives were good then. Anger starts to flow within me. The Society has taken everything perfect away from me. I want it back! I calm myself. I know I can't have it back, but now that people will begin to see them for what they are, I think life is either going to get a lot easier or a whole lot harder. That is yet to be determined.

I near the end of the book after several hours. After all the mysteries have been exposed, I realize things weren't my father's fault. I know he'd been used and I rid myself of my earlier doubts. Rebecca has fallen asleep to something on the television, I haven't been paying attention. The Society's mysteries and diabolical schemes have been exposed. Daniel was the cause, but he was only a byproduct of them, the Society. They must be stopped.

I place a bookmark in the back cover of the book and put it on the nightstand. I cover Rebecca by folding the outside of the blankets over her legs and place a hand on her calf. I drift off.

Chapter 8

Back to Reality

He senses them across the street as they lie in their bed. He focuses his energies toward the young women and their dreams. He needs to separate them. He needs them to fear, distrust, and hate each other. He closes his eyes and feels mentally through the air as he filters through others thoughts and dreams. The vibe coming from Brielle and Rebecca is stronger than that of an average person. He's spent years perfecting his abilities and he is good at what he does. His feelers go out like the long antennae on a cockroach flicking delicately in the air, a lowly creature and scavenger.

Her mind is open to him, unguarded. Rebecca's thoughts are wild and carefree. He penetrates her mind with stealth, undetectable. She lies in the grass in a wide open field. Her hands cradling her head as she admires the clouds in the brilliant sky. Her deep brown eyes absorb the scene above. Cloud resemblances flow in and out of her head as they float by. Some of the names she announces quietly, others she thinks silently. The tall grass frames her body as it floats lazily against the summer's warm breeze. He watches her from above as he contemplates his next move.

An image of Brielle forms in a nearby tree line. It walks toward Rebecca methodically and stiff. Trees begin to sprout up in all directions as the quiet meadow turns into a thick forest. A thick canopy of leaves quickly blocks Rebecca's viewing above. It is so sudden that it startles her. She quickly stands and realizes the growth around her. _It's just a dream,_ she quietly says to herself. The Brielle manifestation steadily approaches from behind the trees as it weaves around their thick bases. Its face is more pale and its eyes are much bluer than hers are, but the resemblance is close enough to cause confusion. The figure's eyes begin to glow with a brilliant, empty whiteness. Rebecca hears a rustling from behind and turns toward it. She sees Brielle walking to her and feels the emotionless shell with her empathic ability. It's an empty void of a person, not the young woman she knows and loves. She digs to uncover her own power within. Her eyes blacken instantly. She is suddenly hit with a force in her breastbone. Her body slams against the hull of a tree behind. The breath releases from her lungs with a forced exhale on impact. Her head smacks against the rough bark of the old oak with a crack, instant headache. Despite the pain, she brings her focus to her assailant and strikes back with all the force she can muster. She hits the being, but there is no response. It's as if she'd just blasted through a ghostly apparition. It continues to approach. Blood paints the bark of the tree from Rebecca's head. Strings of her hair are captured within the bark's corners. Her eyes begin to flutter and knees waver. Her body slides down the tree toward the ground and onto her butt. Her torso slumps lazily as she falls to the side, darkness.

He shifts his illusions to Brielle's mind as she sleeps comfortably next to Rebecca. Her eyelids begin to flutter rapidly. She walks swiftly down the sidewalk. She immediately recognizes where she is. Saplings line the sides of the street perfectly. A leaf propels downward in front of her eyes toward the ground. She continues to walk, but slows her strides. She sees the alleyway up ahead. She remembers the place as she approaches the darkness of the corridor. She peers around the corner and sees Rebecca's dark figure cowered in the far corner. She enters the shadows quietly.

"Rebecca?" she requests softly, "Are you ok?" Sobbing comes from her. The occurrence is just as before. Rebecca's black nail polish decorates her fingers as the sterling silver rings dance against the moonlight with the slight movements of breathing coming from their wearer. Brielle reaches down to her friend to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. As her fingers near, Rebecca's face shoots upward with opaque eyes filled with rage and hatred. Her hair is frizzy and mane-like in appearance. The mascara trails run from the corners of her eyes to her chin.

"Get away from me you bitch!" She yells up at Brielle. Her voice is hollow and deep. Brielle pulls her hand back and steps backward as Rebecca stands up against the wall.

"Rebecca, please don't do this," Brielle pleads with her as she prepares for the mental attack. Her eyes begin to glow in their angelic brightness. A shot of psychic force hits her in the chest suddenly, but it doesn't harm her. She sends a push of her own toward the enraged figure and it slams her against the wall. Brielle uses her abilities to pin her against the brick. An angry roar escapes Rebecca's lips and bounces off of the walls. She tries to attack Brielle again, this time it causes a little pain. Brie becomes livid and wraps her mental hand around the girl's throat as a tear escapes her duct. It pains Brielle to have to harm her friend. Rebecca begins to gasp for air.

_Brielle, please stop,_ an exterior voice invades her thoughts. _Brielle, you're hurting me,_ the speech is muffled and gasping. Brielle blinks rapidly as the dream becomes a reality. She is standing in front of Rebecca in the hotel room. Her friend is pinned against the wall as tears flow down her face. The moonlight pours in the window from behind. Startled, Brielle releases her grip. Rebecca's hands go to her own throat as the pressure is released. Her eyes are wide and on Brie. The look on her face says everything. _Why?_ The question is asked without saying the words aloud. Brielle reaches an apologetic arm out for Rebecca and she cowers from her. Brie tries again and her hand is slapped away. Simultaneous disbelief and understanding strike Brielle's emotions. She is just as confused as Rebecca.

"I'm sorry, Rebecca, I didn't mean to do it," Brielle tries to explain.

"Stop," Rebecca holds her hand up as she continues to try to catch her breath, "I saw your eyes. I can't do this. I have to go."

"You can't go," shock hits Brielle. "I told you, I didn't mean for that to happen..." Her explanation is interrupted.

"No, I've seen this. I know what's going to happen. I have to go. There's money in the suitcase. You'll be fine." She quickly skirts around Brielle and grabs the car keys off the table. Brielle tries to get in her way, but Rebecca brushes past her and out the door. Brielle knows there is no use in trying to stop her. As the hotel door shuts, Brie slumps down on the bed and begins to cry.

The man across the road watches out the window as Rebecca crosses the parking lot, gets into the car, and speeds away. A smile decorates his face as his eyes focus on the dark window of the hotel across the street.

Chapter 9

Vulnerable

As she drives down the road, she can still feel where Brielle had wrapped her mental hand around her throat. She rubs at it periodically trying to rid herself of the sensation. Tears flow down her cheeks due to her loss. She travels for a few miles before seeing a parking lot to a city park off to the left of the road she's traveling. She pulls in.

The park is desolate and dark except for the lights over the empty tennis courts behind her, she notices in the rearview mirror. There are a few trees lining the island that separates the parking lot into sections. She pulls in to the right, facing the woods. Beyond her front windshield, the woods are thick. A lonely path runs along its edge. She takes another look around in the darkness for any unwanted company, there's nobody. _Most people are in their nice warm beds at 3 a.m_., she thinks to herself. She turns off the car, opens the door, and gets out, leaving the keys in the ignition. Her mind is cloudy and she needs time alone to think. She closes the car door, walks across the neatly trimmed grass onto the path, and takes a left, deeper into the darkness.

She looks up toward the moon in all its glory. The silvery light brightens the dim path. She thanks God for its presence silently. A barely noticeable breeze touches her skin with humidity and warmth. A slight stickiness glazes her flesh. Gray cut-off sweatpants and a white t-shirt is all she's wearing above her slip-on shoed, yet sockless feet. Her footsteps are muffled and nearly silent aside from an occasional crunch of a small pebble along the path. The leaves rustle in the canopy above as they tickle each other and the growth around her thickens. A small, nocturnal animal scurries about in the wood line to her right. It scares her a little, but as soon as she realizes what it is, she calms down. The shadow of a squirrel reveals itself as it stands on its back feet and the bushy tail is outlined in the shadows.

She places her focus back onto the path so she can think more easily when she notices an image from the night prior. Up ahead, there is the bridge from her dream. The wooden arc's shadow stands out over a small creek bed. She slows down her steps and glances over her shoulder. There is nothing behind her but darkness. She continues walking as her heart increases its beats. Another pebble crunches under the soul of her shoe. She looks back again wondering if she'd missed something during the noise, still nothing. She nears the bridge and begins to take a step onto the wood. In invisible force pushes her between her shoulder blades from behind and she slips. Her right knee slams against the boarding of the structure. A sharp pain shoots into her hip and jolts down into her foot. She instinctively rolls onto her back as she tries to ignore the pain once again, just like in the dream. Brielle isn't the person before her. His jade-green eyes sparkle under the moon's light. His white teeth shine in a wide smile. She notices that he is not alone. Before she can do anything to stop him, a cloth is pressed against her face. As quickly as she'd fallen, the darkness of the night around her seeps into her brain and her lungs become heavy.

Chapter 10

Strangers

I wake up with the daylight pouring into my lonely hotel room. I'd half expected to roll over and see Rebecca sleeping by my side. I am disappointed to see that the dream had not become a reality. I reach over and feel the empty pillow's surface with my fingers. I pluck a dyed black hair from the white pillow cover. I turn onto my back and look toward the ceiling. I grab each end of the hair and pull it taunt between my fingertips. I miss her already. Everyone leaves me, usually not by choice, but everyone does. I turn toward the side of the bed closest the window and let the hair dangle from one end. I let it fall gently to the floor as a tear follows suit. I tightly close my eyes to wring them out, squeezing.

I lay on the bed for a couple of hours before deciding to get up, shower, and dress. I grab the money she'd left and the room key and go out into the hallway, down the elevator, and out the front door. The Kansas sun is bright and the humidity is unexpected. There is a slight breeze, but it's not a rude one. I walk across the parking lot. I'm not sure where I'm going, but I do know that I can't lay around a hotel room alone forever. My stomach is growling and my mind is foggy.

I walk to the crosswalk toward downtown and wait for the light. The traffic isn't as heavy as I'd expected it to be. The light changes color and the hand on the lighted box tells me it is okay to cross, I do. The sidewalk leads me further into the downtown. The buildings aren't overwhelming, but they are fairly tall. It's not at all like Dallas. It's calm and quaint. I notice a sign for a coffee shop a couple of blocks ahead and decide to make it my destination.

The coffee house is warm in its décor. Deep, rich wood tones decorate the walls and the tables. Pastries, sandwiches, and cookies line the display case near the counter. A girl my age with glasses, blonde hair, and an apron, stands behind the counter by the register.

"Can I help you?" she asks. I stop for a moment.

"Ummm...could I get a white chocolate frappe please?" I have no idea what a frappe is, but it says frozen and it's got caffeine in it. "Also, could I get one of those?" I point at one of the sliced turkey and Swiss sandwiches in the display. She rings up the order, I pay, and she gets my drink prepared. I stand quietly off to the side observing the restaurant. There are only a few others in here. She places my items on the counter. I get it and find a place to sit. I choose a tall, round table with leggy chairs to match. I set my things down and step on the support rung to get onto the seat. I settle in and immediately take a sip of the frappe. It's delicious. The icy cool richness flows down my throat and soothes my insides.

Just as I begin to take the plastic wrap off of my sandwich, a man walks in the entrance wearing khaki shorts and a t-shirt. He is tall, dark and handsome. I take a bite. He walks passed me and his green eyes devour my soul. My heart flutters as I embarrassingly cover my food-filled mouth with a hand. He removes his gaze and goes to the counter. I try to ignore the fact that he's standing behind me waiting for his coffee as I continue to eat my sandwich. He walks passed me again, but doesn't look back. I watch him as he nears the door and then it happens. He turns back for a second glance, but he doesn't make it obvious. I notice. He leaves. I finish my food with less urgency now that my stomach has stopped hollering at me. I try to relax and think about what's next.

Though Rebecca left me, I vow to myself there will be no more tears. I've lost many important people in my life and I'm sure she'll not be the last. I think back to my reading, my father's book, the Society, all the people who've been so wrongly affected by these abilities. I try to stop myself and ask, _what's next,_ once again silently. I know there's a chapter in Topeka. The real question is do I want to find out about them? I think I'll wait for them to come to me and see what kind of reception I get. They've always known where to find us, no matter where we're hiding. They have their ways. After all, _Self Convictions_ has them naked to the world. I don't think they'll be trying to start anything negative with me any time soon. I decide that I deserve a night of self-involvement. I take another sip of my frappe. I love the way that word sounds. I drink it much too quickly and soon feel the effects on my brain. I rub my temples gently with a wince on my face. The headache subsides as quickly as it had come. I am going to find a club or bar or something tonight. My mind is made up.

I leap from my chair and go to the trash to throw the plastic wrapper away. I order another frappe for the road. The caffeine is taking affect and it feels great. I take my drink and walk out the door. I go back to the hotel to relax for a bit and to change my clothes.

****

Joshua gets off of the helicopter at the Fort Riley's airfield. The General is following closely behind as they leave the tarmac and enter a nearby building. The silence is welcoming to their ears after flying from Manhattan, Kansas to Fort Riley by the noisy helicopter. Their boots squeak across the highly-polished linoleum floor. SSG Pruitt falls behind the General as he lets him take the lead. Joshua's never been down onto this part of Fort Riley and is a little out of his element. The Sergeant behind the Staff Duty desk stands at a stiff attention upon seeing the rank on the General's chest.

"At ease, Sergeant," the General says, "has Sergeant Major Tillman arrived?" The Sergeant relaxes by placing his arms behind his back when he answers.

"Yes, Sir, he's in the conference room." The General nods in thanks as the Sergeant pushes a button on the wall granting access to the back hallway. Joshua follows the General closely behind. The General gives a _he's with me_ motion as the Sergeant goes to stop Joshua from entering the hallway. The remaining portion of the General's entourage stays in the front of the building as instructed. Joshua wonders to himself just how many people know about him and his abilities as their combat boots echo off the walls in the desolate corridor. The only things decorating the walls are framed photographs of former and the current Presidents of the United States. They are arranged in a perfect line on either side from newest to oldest. The current president starts the right-side row and it rotates right-side, left-side.

They take a left turn into a large room. The table setting resembles the set-up in Iraq, but this time there's only one other person in the room. Joshua breathes a quiet sigh in relief, less overwhelming. He quickly stands from his seat as they enter and salutes the General. All formalities quickly go out the window.

"It's about time, John," the Sergeant Major says to the General, "I've been waiting for our superstar to arrive for hours." He gives a little chuckle as he shoots a wink in Joshua's direction. The men shake hands and give a quick hug. Each one pats the other one-handed on their backs with a couple hard smacks.

"I would've been here sooner Gary, but you know how Air Force flights are?" The General retorts with a smile. Joshua is confused and continues to pay the man his respect by standing at attention in place. The Sergeant Major, Gary, directs his attention to Josh and approaches. He outstretches a hand. The gesture catches Joshua a little off guard, but he returns the handshake.

"Relax, SSG Pruitt, behind these doors you can let your hair down. That's an order." Joshua begins to relax as best he can, still a little awkwardly. "You have secrets, we have secrets. Let's just all be friends. Have a seat." Gary pulls a rolling, leather chair away from the table and Josh takes it. The General and the Sergeant Major each take a seat as well. The General takes the head chair and the Sergeant Major goes to the opposite side across from Josh. "Now, we have some things to discuss. Only a few people know about you, you're secret is safe, don't worry." Comfort doesn't come as easily as Joshua would like, but he continues to listen. "Have you read the book?" Josh nods. "Good. So, you know that the book ends with twins being born, right?" He nods again and then begins to speak.

"Sergeant Major, I don't see what this has to do with me though."

"Call me Gary. Well, Josh, is it okay if I call you Josh?" He nods. "It didn't have anything to do with you until a few days ago. We've known about you for quite some time and this Society that Brandon Hudson refers to as well, but now that it's officially public we need to do what we can to stop them. Once the civilian population gets wind of all this stuff in the book, they are gonna go ape shit that the military hasn't done anything about it. The Society has hurt a lot of innocent people. Don't misunderstand me, a lot of people won't believe the book, but there will be enough of them that will."

"Ummmm...Gary, I still don't see what this has to do with me. What am I supposed to do about it?" The General steps in.

"Josh, you have a gift. The Society would be more than happy to come and take that from you and use it, but we won't let that happen. We have a plan of our own. Brandon Hudson's daughter, Brielle, she's here. Well, she's in Topeka and we have reason to believe the Society is still after her."

"But, I..."

"She's not a little girl anymore, but she needs you to help her. We need you to go there and find her. We need you to bring her back so we can protect her against them until we can eliminate them altogether." Joshua allows the news to sink in a little as he looks at the gentlemen before him.

"Okay," he tells them. He knows the girl they're talking about. He remembers the description from the book.

****

As the sun sets and my makeup perfected, I go to the window to look into the parking lot and check the city's lights for a moment. I notice the archer atop the Capital Building peeking out from between the buildings once again. A feeling of comfort comes over me. Thoughts of my parents invade me momentarily and I shake them away. _Tonight is about me,_ I think. I finish by putting on my heels, black ones to match my dress. I admire my outfit in the full-length mirror. I go over to the telephone and dial the taxi number located on the card next to it and then go downstairs to wait.

The yellow cab pulls into the parking lot and I get into the backseat. An older man with gray hair, a moustache, and a round face is driving.

"Where you headed, Miss?" He asks with a rough voice. It sounds as though he's smoked a lot of cigarettes in his long lifetime and the smell within the cab mirrors that assumption.

"I'd like to have a couple of drinks and dance. Do you know of any place like that?" I ask him politely.

"There are a couple of places over by the college."

"You pick, as long as I can relax a little, I don't care." He pulls out of the parking lot and drives through the city. The larger buildings and small law firms begin to thin out as the car dealerships and houses start to take over the landscape. He drives for several blocks and we pass by the campus. Trees and a well-kept lawn decorate the acres to my left as we travel along. I notice a beautifully lit waterfall cascading over perfectly placed sheets of sandstone just on the edge of the college campus' grounds. The water falls delicately into a pool below. A few blocks later, he pulls into a large parking lot. I notice a large grocery store, a book store, and a mall. There is another strip mall running adjacent to the building complex in front of me.

"Here we are," he announces. I look around and see a small sign above the door. I hand him the fare with a tip and get out of the taxi.

I go inside, the music hits me loudly, but it's a welcome sound. Pop culture music enters my eardrums and strip lighting decorates the club in random colors. I immediately go to the bar and order a drink, a Screwdriver will be a good start. The kind-looking, college-aged bartender with dancing blue eyes measures and pours my drink. I set a couple of extra dollar bills on the counter as I scoop up my beverage. He quickly shoves two cocktail straws into it. I hastily bring the drink to my lips and I use the combined efforts of fingers, teeth, and tongue to get the straws into position. The cool liquid feels like sunshine as it goes to my stomach and rapidly warms my brain. After the initial few gulps, I slow down and find a place to sit. I like to observe before jumping into things.

I find a seat and look around. Most of the clientele seem to be in their college years. There aren't a lot of people here at the moment, but it's still early. Average-looking young adults enjoying the Friday night life in Topeka, Kansas, sit at their tables and converse. There aren't any bodies on the dance floor yet, but, once again, it's still early. I sip on my drink again and continue looking around when I notice him. The guy from the coffee shop is sitting at a table across the dance floor. My heart begins to flutter sporadically. I'm giddy like a little girl who's just opened a new toy at Christmas. He hasn't seemed to notice me, I'm fine with that. I'm not ready for an approach yet anyway. I need another drink. I suck down the remaining and go to the bar for another.

"Whoa girl, done already?" the bartender asks. I give a little giggle.

"Another one please," I request without officially asking. He takes the dirty glass, places it into a sink, and goes to get another ready for me. I tip him again and take the drink from the bar. I go back and sit down with my liquid courage. I'm going to give it a few more minutes, maybe longer, before I decide what to do. I try to keep myself from coming off as desperate and avoid staring, short unnoticeable glances in his direction only. His beautiful green eyes glitter around in my mind. I decide to change positions at the table. My glimpses have become too frequent and unavoidable to control. I pick a chair with my back to him and sip a little more. My head begins to swim slightly as the liquid reaches the bottom. I get up to go for another when a gentle hand touches my shoulder. A deep voice flows into my eardrums.

"Do you mind if I get the next one for you?" His English accent is mesmerizing. I look up at the man, it's him. I stutter a little in my response.

"Sha...sure," I reply and immediately feel stupid. He smiles at me and goes to the bar. He returns quickly with two Screwdrivers in-hand.

"Mind if I join you?" I motion for him to sit. He does. "My name's Hunter by the way." His hand reaches for mine and I greet him with a girlish grin. "Didn't I see you earlier today? I work downtown."

"Nice to meet you, Hunter, I'm Brielle," I nervously reply. "And yes." His smile is gleaming and perfectly white. My head is still swimming, both with liquor and with nerves. I place my hand around the icy cold glass. That's my excuse for sweaty palms. I'm at a loss for words.

"So, are you from around here?" Hunter asks.

"No, I'm just kinda, well, passing through I guess," I don't know what else to say, "You?"

"I've just recently moved here actually. I work for a law firm that handles cases all over the country. I grew up in England though. I haven't quite been able to shake the accent." His words are glorious to my ears. The accent has me shaking at the knees. Luckily he can't see them. I nod in affirmation.

"Cool," I simply say. "I grew up in Paris, but I never really was exposed to the accent enough for it to stick, private school." I start to look around as a group of young people come in the front door and begin to gather at the bar for drinks. Not knowing what else to say, I sip slowly.

"Would you like to dance?" He asks suddenly. _I thought you'd never ask,_ I think to myself. I down my drink and smile in approval as I get up from my chair. He takes my hand and we go to the dance floor.

The music is fast and, with the liquid courage I've acquired with the vodka drink, I have no issues keeping up. Neither does Hunter. We dance for what seems an eternity as the club begins to pack with people. The DJ mixes in a couple of slow songs here and there. I take great pleasure in taking part in a close dance with this handsome man with piercing green eyes.

The announcement for last call is delivered long before my mind is ready for it to be. I am a bit on the drunk side, but not in a sloppy way. I am loose and enjoying my evening. Rebecca is the furthest thing from my mind.

****

I open my eyes and there's nothing, darkness. Muffled sounds of struggle come from my mouth in the form of throaty grunts. They've blindfolded me and taped my mouth shut. My hands are tied behind my back and my butt is numb from the position I'm in. I try to move my feet. They are also secured to the chair. The metal is hard and uncomfortable. There is no use in struggling. Without sight, there's nothing I can do in defense. I use my empathic ability to feel for a nearby presence, emptiness. I ask myself, _why did I leave Brielle? I was safe with her._ A lonely tear warms my cheek slightly in its trickling as it sneaks passed the confines of the cloth covering my eyes. I sit and I wait.

****

With my head swimming from the alcohol, we make our way out into the parking lot to meet the cab Hunter called for a few minutes ago. He helps me along as I stumble a bit on my heels. He opens the door and holds it, I get in, and he closes it gently. He gets in on the other side and tells the driver our destination, my hotel. The driver acknowledges and drives. With my mind in a haze, I lay my head on Hunter's strong shoulder and drift back and forth into sleep. The next thing I know we're at the front of my building. He tells the driver to wait and gets out. He goes to my door, opens it, and helps me from the deeply cushioned seat. I use him as a stabilizer as we make our way to the elevator. As the doors close, I push myself onto him. Our lips meet and heat surges through my body. He reciprocates, but only slightly as he stops me. His glorious green eyes devour mine as he stares into them.

"Brielle, you're drunk. We're not going to do it like this," a look of disappointment crosses my uninhibited face. "I like you. I think you're a great girl, but not tonight. We'll go on a date tomorrow, a real date. Would that be okay? I know a great Japanese sushi place." I look at him and nod. I give a little smile. The doors open and he sees me to my room. He tucks me into my bed and leaves like a gentleman. I pass out.

Dreams invade my mind. There's a nighttime landscape near a large lake. The moon is full and bright. I sit on a wooden picnic table, my butt on the tabletop with my feet on the bench. A gentle breeze makes my hair wave calmly off my shoulders. The waves from the water gurgle sweetly against the shoreline. Hunter approaches me from a short distance away. His green eyes glow brightly in the night, fluorescently. He looks cunning and cat-like on approach, but still gorgeous. He gets close and places his hands upon my knees. He swoops in for a kiss and I return the pleasure willingly and immediately. The heat flows between us as the intensity builds. He lays me down on the table and we begin to make love under the moon. His face pulls away from mine for a moment. His jade-green eyes suddenly turn a golden, honey-brown.

"I'm coming for you, Brielle," is all he says before they change back to normal. The shock and confusion subsides and they are replaced by pleasure. The waves of the lake are shifted to the sounds of long, grassy grains rustling together atop their shoots. I open my eyes to find that we are surrounded by grass in a meadow. The moon still hangs brightly above and the breeze still flows across our naked bodies.

_Brielle, help me,_ rings in my ears as so many times in the past. I know the voice. I jump awake in my bed. The man on top of me, the breeze, and the moon, are all gone. I am alone in my hotel room. Waves of pleasure still flow through me. The heat quickly subsides. I pull the blankets in tightly to my chest around my tucked knees as I look out the window. My head starts to pound. The sun is beginning to rise.

Chapter 11

Seeking Society

After a quick stop for clothing and a mailing envelope at the Post Exchange, Joshua travels along Interstate 70E toward Topeka. He has a destination, the Sergeant Major and the General made sure he knew where he was going before letting him go. They were the only ones who knew about the mission. They gave him a cellphone and wanted periodic check-ins. Josh has no idea what he's up against. As far as he's ever known, he's the only one like himself. After reading Brandon's book, there is a mixture of excitement and worry.

The radio blares in his government sedan as he passes the Wamego exit. Topeka isn't much further. He lets his mind wander as he flies down the highway. When he was little, he used to experiment with his powers, but he kept them private, secret. He remembers feeling much like Brandon did when he was a child. Nobody understood him. He had secrets, but he still managed to play varsity football in high school. He made quarterback his sophomore year. He had girlfriends. A new one came every few months. He never wanted anyone to get too close. He had secrets. He was different. He felt like an outcast at times, but his parents reassured him that he was as normal as any other boy.

There was an unusual gray day in Ohio when a boy had come to school. Nobody really knew him. He was picked on. He was lonely and depressed. His name was Jon, if Josh remembered correctly. As soon as Jon entered the school, Joshua could tell that there was something wrong with him, more so today than any day prior. He was a gothic kid. People suspected him of being gay, the main source of the picking. Jon had decided today was going to be the day that people didn't antagonize him anymore. He had a shotgun hidden beneath the black trench coat he'd always worn. Nobody suspected, except for Josh, he could feel the anger, anxiety, and vengeful emotions flowing from within his classmate. That was the day that Joshua saved the school from an unexpected nightmare. He used his gifts to reach inside Jon's chest. He squeezed his heart in his mental fist. The boy dropped to his knees in pain. The shotgun fell from their hiding place. The other kids screamed. Joshua stopped using his powers and kicked the gun down the hallway. He restrained the boy until the police came to arrest him.

While in high school, the dreams started coming. In one of the first instances, there was a man, a dark man. The man had flowing hair and deep brown eyes. The man was powerful in his abilities. He had seen the man before, but he didn't know from where. As Joshua's soul stood by during the dreams, he'd seen many things. He'd seen a glorious garden of statues and flowers all around a mansion-sized house. He'd seen the man talking to a young boy whose hair and brown eyes were exactly like the man's features. During one of these visions, he'd seen _her,_ the girl who's visited him in many dreams, the girl with the bright blue eyes and golden blonde hair. The first time he'd seen her, the dark boy was with her and the man was talking to them. He'd also envisioned a young woman, also very powerful. She had a boy with her, a boy with green eyes, very defined. The man and woman kissed the boy as the car pulled from the gated driveway of the mansion.

Random visions of violence came here and there. The more recent ones, while he was beginning his tour in Iraq, included a lot of gunfire. The dark man was there again. Joshua watched as the man died. The woman with the beautiful blue eyes had done it. There was a lot of death in that dream.

The blue-eyed beauty appeared often in his dreams. One could venture to say that she was haunting them. Her mystery was intriguing to him. Her flawless features were captivating. They were only dreams.

While in his senior year of high school, the Army recruiter called. His mother had answered the telephone. She was livid. She didn't want her little boy joining the military, especially with all the craziness going on in the world. He quickly stole the telephone away from her as she ranted and apologized to the Sergeant on the other end. The recruiter smooth-talked him rapidly and, after hanging up with him, Joshua convinced his mother that it was the right thing to do. There was nothing to do where they lived when it came to jobs. He'd had no plans for the future. He assured her that he was special and, though they'd always told him how normal he was, in fact, he wasn't. He had an advantage that others didn't. He made sure his parents understood the fact that he'd be okay. He left for basic training at Fort Benning, Georgia, shortly after he graduated. Besides the mental stress, he'd completed the course with ease and his secret had remained his.

Fort Riley had been his first and only assignment in the military. The fact that it was only about a dozen hours from home was satisfying. He'd call his parents on a weekly basis to ensure their wellbeing, even while deployed. He quickly removes the cellphone from his short's pocket, turns the radio down, and dials a number. The phone rings on the other end and someone picks up after the second tone.

"Hello?" a sweet older woman's voice sounds on the other end.

"Hi, Mom," Joshua announces, "how are you and Dad?" The woman gasps a bit with relief.

"Oh, Josh, I thought it was going to be another one of those phone calls where there's nobody on the other end."

"What are you talking about, Mom?" Josh asks with surprise.

"Oh, never mind, it's nothing. Your father and I are doing pretty well. You know how slow moving things are around here." Josh glances over at a padded manila envelope on the passenger seat and changes the subject.

"Mom, I'm on a special mission for the Army. I'm going to be sending you something in the mail as soon as I find a drop-box for it. It should be there in a couple of days."

"Really, what are you sending?"

"It's a book. Mom, I need you to read it as soon as you get it, okay?" Talking to him mother makes him excited, but he's not about to tell her the good news. "I've got to go now, I'm driving. Okay?"

"Ok, Josh, you be careful and call me in a couple days. We love you." She sounds like she's going to cry.

"Everything will be alright, Mom. I'm home from Iraq and everything will be fine. Don't start worrying about me."

"Oh, honey, we never stop worrying about you. We love you."

"I love you guys too. Talk to you in a couple days." Josh hangs up the phone and turns the radio back up. The music flows into his ears as he notices a sign stating there are 5 miles to Topeka. He can see the city in the pre-noon skyline in front of him.

_First things first, I need to find a mailbox and then the hotel,_ he announces in his head as he exits the interstate into the city. Traffic isn't too terribly overwhelming. He sees the hotel he's been assigned to stay at directly to his left as he exits the off ramp and gets onto the street. He continues driving as he glances around for a blue mailbox. Luckily, he finds one in a supercenter parking lot almost directly across from the hotel. He pulls up next to the box and counts the rows of stamps on the package. He's sure there is more than enough postage. He shoves the large envelope inside and crosses back over to the hotel for check-in.

****

Rebecca's arms are secured tightly behind her and her blindfold keeps her in check as a young woman enters the room and flips on the light switch. Rebecca's head hangs downwardly, but as the light glows in through the cloth and the footsteps near her in the empty room, she raises her head. The tape over her mouth is gone, she realizes.

"Who's there? What the hell do you want from me?" Rebecca demands answers. Her head aches slightly from the chloroform and there is a sticky film where the adhesive from the tape remains.

"My name doesn't matter. All you need to know is this." Her voice is sweet and light. "Your little girlfriend's daddy really screwed up by putting that book out there for everyone to read." She stops in front of Rebecca's chair as she speaks. "The Society is really pissed right now. He's screwed everything up!" She scoffs like a spoiled brat at the end of the statement.

"What's that got to do with me?" Rebecca asks calmly. She can feel the tension and nerves coming from the woman's body.

"Well, hmmm, let me see. We've got her girlfriend. It won't be long before we have the girl. Isn't that usually how these things work?"

"Leave Brielle alone, she hasn't done anything wrong!" Rebecca becomes angered by the possibility of danger coming to her friend.

"The Society can't have any more mistakes. We've got you and if we have her, well, everything will be contained." Rebecca listens intently to the location of the girl and lets the anger flow through her body. The heat surges from her mind. The girl jumps as a chunk of the wall peppers her back from behind. She exposes a capped syringe, pops the plastic protective cover off, and plunges it into Rebecca's arm. The liquid flows quickly out as she pushes the end in with her thumb. "Yeah, we won't be having any more of that either." She says as Rebecca's eyes begin to flutter and dark clouds roll into her mind. The girl leaves the room.

Chapter 12

Donovan's Past

"You can't keep him around!" Beth yells at Donovan as he faces a window into the garden trying to ignore the conversation and not get angry. He contemplates his next words as he admires the beauty of Paris' Jardin de Luxembourg. Finches frolic carefully about the shrubbery with glorious tones of yellow, orange, and red. Their neon coloring flickers playfully with flashes of brilliance. "Just because you felt the need to play around on me, doesn't give you the right to have families all over the world, Donovan!" Her words tear into him like a knife. He turns toward her.

"Beth, I made a mistake. I've asked for your forgiveness. You said you'd forgiven me. What more do you want?" His words are a desperate plea for an easy dismissal. She cradles their green-eyed baby boy in her arms.

"I want you to get rid of her _and_ your little bastard son!" More painful words escape her lips and shred his skin as he thinks about the talented seed he's spread. Each of his children is special and her words are uncalled for. "You've done it before and, if you love me, you'll do it again! It's not like you're beyond killing."

"I can't kill my own flesh and blood, Beth." She doesn't know about the actual follow-through of her past requests.

"Then send someone else to do it! I don't care what you do, but this family here, the one you're looking at right now, this is your family! Not some woman in Podunk, Ohio! Do it, Donovan. I don't care how you do it, just get it done!" She turns and storms from the room. Donovan has pondered on her sanity and mental stability many times. She is another _mistake_ he's made. His mentoring her had led to too much more. He doesn't love her. He'd loved her as when she was a younger woman in her later teens, but that love was more in admiration for the power she possesses. He'd take care of the Ohio problem first, in order to keep her happy, and then he'd find someone to replace himself in her love struck, insane mind. There are other Society members who would step in for him and he's a tricky man. He could find another love for her. Donovan has always been crafty. His parents had taught him that.

He walks across the hall to his study and picks up the telephone. He dials a number.

"Yes, I need you to take care of something for me." He shakily begins the conversation.

****

It is dark outside. A two-year-old, honey-brown eyed little boy plays quietly in his playpen. His toys are wet with teething saliva as his pudgy little hands try to force them in their entirety into his mouth. The toys are too big for an accident and his mother cares too much to allow it to happen. Drool coats the bib around his neck as he sits wobbly in the enclosure. His mother sits quietly on the couch reading a book with her legs tucked underneath her.

The front door to their modest home suddenly bursts open. Two men enter. They are wearing all black, including the leather gloves on their hands. One immediately closes the door behind them as the other goes for the screaming woman on the sofa. Her paperback print falls violently to the floor; it lands on its pages fanned open. She cowers back against the cushions as the baby starts to cry. The man doesn't touch her. His eyes are as black as the clothing on his body. Her hands go to her heart and her eyes begin to flutter. Spit comes from her mouth and runs down her chin. The little boy continues to cry loudly as he seemly feels his mother's pain. Her body slumps down onto the couch lifelessly. The man goes to check her pulse against her neck. Satisfied, the men leave. The boy stands in his playpen with tears flowing down his cheeks. His mother's open eyes stare back at him.

The men get into their car and slowly drive away. They stop at a local payphone and dial 9-1-1. When the police arrive, they find a crying baby boy and a mother who's apparently had a heart attack. The little boy is delivered to a local orphanage after days of searching for any family members. She had none. Donovan had chosen wisely. He'd known that before her seduction.

Chapter 13

Naiveté

The warm summer air is comforting against my bare legs. My sundress waves effortlessly behind me and sticks to the fronts of my thighs annoyingly. I've chosen a satiny, light-blue material to accent my eyes. Sky blue is my favorite color. I'm wearing a tannish pair of sandals with hemp cording holding them together. The padding is comfortable, but the strap running between my toes is not. A light silver necklace decorates my neck and tiny diamond dots sparkle in my ears. I've got my blonde locks in an up-do with elegant little ringlets popping out randomly. Hunter is dressed casually, but gorgeously. Khaki pants, brown shoes, and a jade-green shirt that makes his eyes pop. Apparently, we're quite a bit alike. I hadn't noticed his earring last night, just one in the left ear, a diamond dot.

As we walk along the sidewalk, we chatter quietly.

"I'm sorry about last night, Hunter," I explain to him. He stops me quickly in my apology.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for. You did nothing wrong," he gives me a smile. I'm sure I blush a little looking down at our feet as they traipse along the gray cracks. The streetlights are plentiful.

"Where are we going?" I ask him. He giggles a little.

"I've already told you, it's a surprise," I am put off a bit by surprises, but allow him the comfort for the moment. We continue walking down one of the main streets until he takes a right into a maple-colored wooden door with a small round frosted window. I immediately get the feeling that we're walking into someone's home, but the artistically fashioned sign above the door says otherwise. He opens it for me and I enter.

The distinct scent of eucalyptus hits my nostrils as I enter. I notice a large ceramic vase of the plant located next to the door, tucked neatly in a corner. A waitress wearing black shoes, slacks, and an apron stands at a podium. Her perfectly pressed, deep maroon shirt matches her surroundings. Brass strip lamps shine down from above.

"Hi, a table for two?" she asks politely. Hunter answers her.

"Yes, please."

"Right this way," she responds. A sly batting of her eye slashes makes her look desperate in her flirtatiousness. Hunter scoops his arm around my lower back, hinting that I'll be the one to follow directly behind her. The gesture ensures me of his current dedication to me. I fall in behind the hostess with Hunter behind me. She shows us to our table. He pulls my chair out for me and then sits down himself. "Your waitress will be with you momentarily." She flutters her lashes again. I shoot her a not-so-obvious dirty look. She sees herself away.

"Are you jealous?" Hunter is looking at me and says with a little giggle. "You have no reason to be, I'm here with you."

"I know," I blush again, "I just hate that." He reaches for my hand.

"Don't worry about it, Brielle." He winks at me. A candle flickers brightly on the table within its glass enclosure. The lighting is dim and romantic. Most of the décor is a maroon, but the accents are brass and highly polished.

"This is a nice place," I say in an attempt to change the subject and avoid further embarrassment. He smiles at me and our waitress shows up with ice water and menus.

****

The grogginess from the shot starts to clear as Rebecca opens her eyes once again. She shakes off the remaining effects of the drug. She is alone again and still securely strapped to the chair. She tries to wriggle a little, too tight. She tries to concentrate on the wrist restraints, but the harder she does, the deeper the plastic cuts into her hands. She tries to shift the chair. It topples sideways to the right and the side of her head hits the hard floor on impact. Her head instantly begins to pound. As she opens her eyes, she notices the blindfold has slipped a bit and she can see the door with her left eye. The room is dark, but there is a bit of light seeping in from underneath the door.

****

The evening is still as Joshua grabs the edge of the stone wall and hangs from the top. His fingers grip tightly and he hoists himself up. Besides his exhaling, his clothing rubbing against the rough stone is the only other sound. He pops his head over the surface to see what's on the other side. A neatly mowed lawn is all that he notices. Small solar lawn lamps line the edge of the back patio near the two-story house. There are only a couple of lights on within. He pulls himself the rest of the way and scales the wall. He lands softly on his feet in the grass on the other side. He stops to look around and listen. There is nobody around. He skulks toward the house.

He approaches a bay window located to the right of the patio. There is a man sitting on the couch. His feet are propped on a coffee table and he's watching a large, flat-screen television. A stand-up comedian walks back and forth on the stage with a microphone in one hand and a glass of water in the other. The man, who appears to be in his late twenties or early thirties, lets out a boisterous laugh. He sits with a pillow cradled against his stomach. Joshua creeps around to the other windows that he can see into. The other rooms on the ground floor are dark. _This is the address they gave me,_ he thinks to himself as he goes back to the bay window and the man watching television.

_Here I go,_ he thinks as the heat begins to surge within his torso. His focus is on the man's throat. He begins to push against his flesh with his telekinetic ability. The man's hands go to his neck as he begins to gasp for air. His eyes begin to widen and flutter. They soon close and his body relaxes. His arms fall against the cushions to his sides.

Josh moves to the patio door and checks to see if it's locked. He pushes slightly, it slides with ease. He opens it just enough to squeeze in and quietly steps into the house. He slides the door back into the closed position. He walks toward the unconscious man on the sofa and reaches down to feel for a pulse in his neck. He's still alive.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" A female voice demands from behind Josh. He quickly spins on his heel. A young woman standing across the room near an upward staircase points a 9mm pistol at him.

"I'm pretty sure you already know the answer to that question," he answers in a smart tone. She scoffs at him.

"Yeah, well I'm pretty sure that _you_ already know that I can't let you have her." He fires at her before she gets the chance. His aim is dead-on, the barrel of the pistol. He hears a bone crack as the weapon flies from her delicate fingers. She cradles her right hand in her left in agony. Her eyes become a deep, angry black void. "You just made a huge mistake!" Her voice is haunting and screeches through the air. Joshua leaps toward her legs and forces her to the ground before she can do anything to him. He crawls up her chest and pins her to the ground. Suddenly, he uses his forearm like a club and smacks the vein in the side of her neck. Her blackened eyes refill with color as they glass over. Her eyelids drop suddenly.

"You talk too much," he says to her as he gets off and stands up. He picks the pistol up off the ground and slips it into the back waistline of his pants. He goes into the kitchen and begins shuffling through drawers and finds what he's looking for, duct tape. He grabs two chairs from the dining room and places them back-to-back. He hauls the bodies to their respective chairs using a cord to temporarily secure them before wrapping the tape around. Once they are tightly bound together, he pulls four strips from the roll and places them on each of their mouths and eyes. _I'm not taking any chances,_ he mutters to himself.

Satisfied with his work, he ascends the staircase. He gets to the top and checks the doors in the hallway. They all open easily, save one. He jiggles the handle, it's locked. He removes the pistol from his waist and holds it in his right hand. He remembers his days in Iraq, many days of kicking in doors. He cocks back his leg and bashes the door in. It flies inward and bounces back as it hits the wall behind it. Bits of wall sprinkle to the ground from the force of the knob puncturing the wall. His hand quickly stops it from slamming back in his face. He looks inside.

Rebecca sees the man as he stops the door with his hand. Her body lies lazily against the floor. Her cheek is tingling against the hardwood flooring. She gears up for an attack and strikes without warning.

Joshua strains to see into the darkness as he notices a dark-haired woman tied to a chair lying against the floor. Her blindfold only allows one eye to be exposed. The force hits him in the chest like a baseball bat. His sternum pops loudly like a joint cracking as he slams through a door to a room behind him. The air escapes his lungs as he hits the floor flat against his back. He lies motionless for a moment as he tries to catch his breath.

"That'll teach you, you son-of-a-bitch!" Rebecca yells from across the hall. He gathers in some air.

"What the hell is your problem? I'm here to save you!" He coughs a couple of times upon delivery of the statement. He rolls onto his side, catching his breath. After a moment, he gets up and brushes himself off. The pistol is somewhere on the other side of the room. He looks in at the girl on the floor. "Please, don't do that again."

"How do I know what you're here to do? Aren't you one of them?" Her hair falls into her mouth as she speaks and she blows it out with a forceful exhale. He walks toward her cautiously.

"No, I've been sent by the United States Army to rescue you." He looks at her more closely as he nears her. "You don't look like the girl from my dreams."

"Thanks, I thought you were here to _rescue_ me? Anytime would be nice." Rebecca's annoyance is obvious. Joshua kneels down and reaches over the chair to undo the tie restraining her hands.

"Aren't you Brielle Hudson, Brandon's daughter, the guy who wrote the book?" he inquires while finishing with the restraints.

"No, I'm Rebecca, a friend of Brielle's. We had a fight and got separated." She pulls her hands free as he starts working on her legs. She rubs her reddened wrists. "I was in the park last night and the next thing I know I'm here."

"Who are these people? Are they Society?" Joshua asks as he frees her feet and helps her up. He notices right away, despite the circumstances, how beautiful she is.

"Don't get any funny ideas, guy, you're barkin' up the wrong tree with that shit," Rebecca interrupts his thoughts. She catches him off guard. "I don't know who these people are. How about we go find out?" Rebecca is determined to get answers. She leads the way out the door of what used to be her prison cell.

****

The water brushes the shores of the lake as it makes its distinct sound. A warm breeze blows softly over the top of the water creating gentle ripples. The moon shines at three-quarters; its coloring is an orangey-red. Its reflection is distorted as it bounces off the wavy water's surface. Crickets chirp noisily in the distance as do croaking frogs from the waters swampy inlets. Randomly planted trees are thick and tall above the couple as they walk on the sidewalk near the water's edge.

Brielle and Hunter enjoy their evening with a moonlit walk. Hunter had driven them to one of the city's local lakes in his company issued car. A slight chill flows through Brielle's body caused by the breeze. Goose-bumps form and then quickly reside. She doesn't know if it's the anticipation of walking with her newfound man or if they are being caused by the atmosphere. She maintains her ladylike composure.

"This place is beautiful. I'll bet it's even better during the day," she says to Hunter.

"I like coming here at night, it helps me clear my head," he answers her as he smoothly reaches for her hand. His hand slides down the lower part of her arm and then nestles neatly as their fingers intertwine. She reciprocates without an awkward gesture or vocalization. More goose-bumps form, this time she knows why, anticipating butterflies come as well.

"What could you possibly need to clear your head from?" she asks. It takes him a moment to respond.

"Lawyer stuff, the job's a little stressful," he replies. Satisfied by his answer, they continue walking. She sees a picnic table ahead.

"I had a dream last night."

"Really, what was it about?" he asks. She leads them off the trail toward the table. She looks around to see if there is anyone else nearby. She turns around, sits on top of the table, and pulls him in close.

"Let me show you," she says before she kisses him deeply.

They are careful in not getting caught, but not careful in other ways. They get dressed quickly and return to his car. He opens the door for her, closes it, and gets into his side. As he's pulling out of the parking lot, he asks her a question.

"Brielle, this may seem a little sudden, but I would like it if you'd come stay with me in my hotel." His statement catches her a little off guard, but it makes her smile. She turns her head toward the window so he can't see her reaction. She acts as though she's thinking on it for a moment and then turns to him. She places a hand on his thigh.

"I would love to," she replies, "There's no use in wasting so much money on two hotel rooms." He smiles at her reaction. "We need to go grab my stuff though. I don't have much, so I won't be long." He takes the turn onto the road leading to the hotel.

Once they arrive, he waits for her in the car as she runs up. She returns a few minutes later with a bag. She tosses it into the backseat. He drives the short distance to his hotel.

"Wow, I had no idea you were so close," she says.

"I didn't either, nice huh?" he asks.

"Yeah, this place is huge," Brielle says as they get out and she retrieves her bag from the back.

"If you think this is nice, I can't wait for you to see the actual room," Hunter responds with a sly look on his face. His green eyes dance beautifully above the half-smirk. She smiles back at him as he takes her bag with the outside arm and they hold hands. The door opens automatically to them.

****

"It's this one right here," Rebecca announces as they approach the hotel. Joshua quickly takes the right turn into the parking lot and pulls under the overhang in the front of the building. "Wait here, I'll be right back." She gets out and goes inside. After going up the elevator, she knocks on the door of the room. She'd left her cardkey on the table. There is no response. She knocks again, more loudly this time, still no answer. "Brielle, I know you're mad at me, but please open the door." There is light coming from beneath the door. "Brie, come on, please," she pleads with her friend.

"She left," Rebecca jumps as a man with a square tub full of ice in his hands nears her. He goes to swipe his card in the door almost immediately across from hers.

"What do you mean, she left?" Rebecca asks.

"I mean, she left," he says as he pushes down on the handle and props the door open with his socked foot. "She was here a few minutes ago. I saw her when I came out. She had a suitcase and her room keys in her hands. I assume that means she was leaving? Call me stupid for thinking so." He looks at Rebecca for a moment and then starts to go inside.

"Thanks," she replies as her heart drops into her feet.

"You're welcome," he answers as he goes into his room.

Rebecca storms urgently down the hall and pushes the elevator button. She gets out in the main lobby and approaches the front desk. An older lady with beady little eyes sits at the computer behind the desk.

"Did Brielle Hudson check out?" Rebecca asks frantically.

"I'm not allowed to answer that question, ma'am," the lady tells her.

"Yes you can. I was also in that room," she places her identification card on the desk and the woman checks the computer. She gives the card back to Rebecca.

"Yes, ma'am, she checked out about five minutes ago," Rebecca's heart drops to the floor.

"Thanks," she says as she leaves the hotel. She opens the car door. "She's gone. She checked out about five minutes ago."

"Damn it," Josh exclaims. "What the hell are we gonna do now?" Rebecca remains silent for a moment, feeling Josh's frustration.

"First, we calm down. Can we start there?" She asks smartly. "We should just go to your hotel room until we figure out how to find her. I don't know what else we can do right now. It's really late and I haven't exactly been well-rested. I'm feeling a little too weak to do anything worthwhile at the moment. Being knocked unconscious and drugged up doesn't really leave a person feeling that great." He pulls out of the lot and onto the street toward his hotel. Rebecca looks at him. "We'll find her, don't worry. If she can find me from Paris, France, we can find her in Topeka, Kansas. There are quite a few million people and a lot of square miles of difference between the two." She smiles at him even though she's just as worried as he is. She watches out her window the entire way, hoping to catch a glimpse of her friend.

Chapter 14

Whispers & Sweet Nothings

A few days had gone by with no luck from Rebecca and Joshua in locating Brielle. They scoured the streets hoping to see her somewhere, anywhere. Brielle and Hunter's love was blossoming quickly, falsely. They'd gone to movies, dinners, and shared many intimate moments.

"I'm going to the convenience store across the street for some ice cream," Brielle tells Hunter as she nears the door to their suite.

"Okay," he replies from the bathroom. He's just gotten out of the shower and wraps a towel around his waist. He brushes a towel through his dark hair briskly.

"Any particular kind you'd like? I've got a craving for Ben and Jerry's, something Rocky Road-like."

"Get whatever you'd like," he replies as she leaves. She flips the hinged brass locking mechanism to prop the door slightly.

Brielle goes down the elevator and out the front door. The orange sunlight shoots up the horizon leaving a brilliant hue in the sky. She pushes the button for a pedestrian's permission of safety to cross the road and waits a moment. A light forming a person walking gives her the sign to move. She crosses and enters a store a couple of doors down on her right hand side.

The air conditioner sends a chill through her bones due to the temperature difference from the outside air. The air gets even colder as she walks across the scuffed, white and gray marble patterned, tile floor. She searches for a flavor that makes her eyes twinkle and her stomach growl in yearning. She finds and retrieves it. _I don't usually like ice cream, especially not something this loaded with junk,_ she thinks to herself silently. Satisfied, she pays for the ice cream and goes back to the hotel. She exits the elevator on his floor and nears the room. She hears talking from inside the room and stops close to it to listen.

"Yeah, she's still here," Hunter speaks. "I think so. It's too early to know for sure though," a moment of silence follows. "I'll have her there in a couple of days," silence. "Okay, I'll let you know." Brielle's jaw drops and she begins to turn back toward the elevator when the door opens. Hunter is still wearing only a towel around his waist.

"Aren't you coming in?" He asks her. His abdominal muscles become more defined with each breath. She looks at him with wide eyes. "What's the matter?" he asks another question. "Come on," he motions as he opens the door all the way and motions an entrance. She reluctantly cooperates and goes inside. She places the ice cream on the countertop and begins to speak.

"Who were you talking to?" she asks with her back to him.

"What do you mean, Brielle? I wasn't talking to anyone." He lies.

"I heard you talking to someone," she starts to walk away from him, further into the room. His emotions begin to run wild, she feels it. A hand suddenly wraps around the back of her neck and shoves her face-down on the bed. She lets out a quick yelp in panic.

"I don't know what you _think_ you heard, but whatever it was, it was too much," his breath is hot against her ear as his bodyweight is completely on her. Her breathing becomes labored as the pressure starts to intensify.

"You said you loved me," the comforter-muffled words struggle out as a tear from pain seeps from the corner of her eye.

"I _do_ love you, Brielle, that's why I am here to save you," his words are menacing. His face leaves her ear and he reaches into a nearby drawer. She searches for her power in her confusion. Her brain is numb and uncooperative. A cloth suddenly covers her mouth and nose as he lifts her head off the bed slightly. She can't avoid inhaling it as he pushes down on her back more intensely. Her lungs feel heavy and full as the chemical goes to her clouded brain turning it to complete darkness. Words invade her mind as it floats away _, I do love you, Brielle, I'm here to save you, relax._

****

Rebecca straightens her back from its position against the headboard of the bed.

"Oh my God, do you feel that?" she says loudly. Joshua sits at the foot of the bed watching television in their small, government-funded hotel room.

"Feel what, Rebecca?" he jumps and turns his head toward her. "Shit, you scared the hell out of me. You shouldn't do that around a guy who may have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder."

"She's still here! Brielle is still here! Something bad has happened!" She leaps from the bed, places her feet on the floor, and cradles her head in her hands.

"What...," Josh is interrupted.

"Don't say anything! Give me a minute!" She holds her hand palm out toward him quickly and then goes back to cradling her head. She looks as though she's having a major migraine attack. There are a few moments of silence as Josh quickly turns off the television. Rebecca raises her head and faces him. "I don't know. I know she's close, but I'm not getting anything else. Her emotions were on overdrive there for a second."

"Come on!" Josh announces as he slips on his shoes. "I think I know where she might be." Rebecca immediately responds and does the same. They leave the hotel room in a rush, down the elevator, and to Josh's car. He speeds out of the parking lot. The sun is gone save a sprinkling of deep orange in the horizon.

They pull up to the house where Joshua had found Rebecca. The two approach cautiously from the front. There are no lights on in the home. The tall front gate is open to the driveway's entrance. They walk inside. Rebecca accidentally bumps against the metal of the fence and it swings loudly on its hinges. She stops the sway abruptly and looks at Joshua for forgiveness. He continues the lead in a crouched approach, knees bent and tiptoeing. They near the sliding glass door and Josh slides it open. There is no resistance this time. They step inside. There is nothing but darkness. All of the furniture is gone, including the large television. Joshua quickly goes up the staircase to check for anyone there. Rebecca continues to snoop around a bit on her own. He returns within a few moments.

"There's nobody and nothing here. They've gutted the whole place out." As he makes the announcement, Rebecca notices a yellow piece of paper on the countertop. She goes over and reads it:

I figured you'd be back.

I've got what I wanted.

Have a nice life.

Yours truly,

Hunter Harris

"That son-of-a-bitch," Rebecca says under her breath as she crumples the paper in her hand. She doesn't pay attention to his last name. She only assumes it's the guy from the park. "Now he's messing with us?"

"What does it say?" Joshua asks her. In her haste and anger, she'd balled up the paper before even thinking of him.

"He's got her, well, that's what it means anyway," Rebecca says as tears well in her eyes. Joshua approaches and embraces her for comfort. She nuzzles her face against his broad, muscular shoulder.

"We'll find her, Rebecca. I don't know what I'm going to tell the General though." She pulls her face away.

"Wait, I think I might be able to figure out where he's taken her." She is excited by her idea. "Daniel, her great-grandfather, had written all of the addresses and names of the Society members in a black book. There's a chapter in Topeka. I have that book in the trunk of my car. Hopefully it's still there."

"Why didn't you say so?" Joshua interrupts.

"I didn't think about it. It's not like there hasn't been anything going on." Her tone is rough and sarcastic.

"Well, let's go then," he says. They leave the house and get into the car driving in the direction of the park where Rebecca had been abducted from days before.

As Josh takes a left turn onto a major road just a block down, the headlights from a vehicle parked near the house turn on. It pulls away from the curb and begins to follow them, keeping its distance.

With night completely upon them, Rebecca has a déjà vu moment as they pull into the parking lot of the park. The evening is calm and humidly stuffy. She sees her vehicle parked in the same place she'd left it. It's the only car in the lot and it is void of any people. She points at it cuing Joshua. He pulls into a spot next to it. They both get out.

She goes to the driver's side and opens the door. The keys still dangle from the ignition. _I'm surprised nobody's messed with it,_ she thinks to herself as she pulls them from their slot. Joshua waits for her at the back of the car. She opens the trunk. There are bags of clothing within, he helps remove them. They set them onto the asphalt. She pulls back the thin carpeting lining the trunk and reaches beneath it. From on top of the spare tire, she pulls her hand out. A black book bound and sewn in a bright golden thread shines in the moonlight. She begins thumbing through it.

Joshua suddenly involuntarily slams into his car which is parked next to hers. His head smacks against the thick metal of the rear quarter panel and he falls to the ground. Blood begins to form around his head as his body relaxes completely. Rebecca tries to go to him. A psychic force slams her into the back of her vehicle. The edge of the trunk lip catches her just above the eye. Blood begins to pour from the wound and into her left eye. She groggily turns toward her attacker. Two men wearing all black with eyes to match their outfits approach silently. Her fingers fumble with the book as they begin to tingle and it flops to the ground. She hears the trunk slam behind her. She goes to use her abilities, but she is lifted and thrown into the rear windshield. The window spider-webs as it impacts with the back of her skull. Her eyes flutter and darkness overcomes her.

****

Brielle starts to struggle against her restraints. She is strapped to a bed like she's a mental patient who's at risk of harming herself. She looks around the room with only her eyes. Her head is secured to the bed as well. A small light bulb dangles from above. The rest of the room seems to be empty. Her vision is limited. An IV bag hangs from a small hook securely fastened to the wall on her upper, left-hand side. The liquid drips slowly into a tube. She can't tell where the line leads, but from the stiffness in her left forearm, she'll assume it goes there. She tries to free herself once again, nothing works. She makes an attempt to use her powers on the dangling bulb, not to douse it, but to move it slightly. There is no response, internal or external.

A nearby door creaks on its hinges. Footsteps approach her bed and a face comes into view. Jade-green, sadistic eyes come into view. Anger overcomes her body and she searches for her powers once again. They don't work. She struggles against her straps with much avail. Hunter's thick hand is placed on Brielle's forehead and he brushes back her blonde hair.

"There's no point in struggling, love, that juice keeps you from getting out of control." He points to the IV bag. She cringes against the touch of his hand. To her, he is a monster. He's just like any other person she's ever met outside of her family, save Rebecca. A lone tear of frustration tumbles to her pillow.

"What do you want from me?" she asks with a dry, cracked voice. His hand moves from her forehead to her belly.

"I want this, Brielle. You and I have created something well beyond anything the Society's ever seen." Her eyes search his face confusingly. "Yes, Brielle, I am a Society member and I do have some abilities of my own, but what's in here isn't for the Society, it's for my father." Her eyes become more filled with wonder. He begins to explain. "You know my father, Brielle, you killed him yourself." Her mind flashes an image of a man standing next to her brother as she rips his head off with her powers. "Yeah, see, you _do_ remember. That's a sinful act in which you're going to have to pay. There are consequences for your actions, love." She tries to push upward with her head and outward with her mind. Her efforts are wasted. Hunter's hand goes back to her head. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you for the next few months and then I'll have no use for you." He begins to leave the room. "There are always consequences, love. Consequences for killing, consequences for revealing the Society's secrets, and consequences for having unprotected sex with a man you barely know." His laughter is stifled as he closes the squeaky door closed behind him. Tears begin to flow like aqueducts as Brielle lies on the bed, helpless and alone.

Chapter 15

Heaven Help Us

I wake up in an empty room. The cold concrete against my back is intense due to my recent acclimatization to the Iraqi heat. I push myself from the ground shakily. My head hurts. I notice a small puddle of dried blood on the floor. I've seen plenty of blood in my lifetime, though I'm not that old. My arms are weak as I turn into a push-up position and get to my feet. I look around the room. It is empty and windowless. I go to the door and inspect it. The edges are flush with the framing and it is solid. There is no latch on the inside or knob to turn. It is a thick blockade.

I dig passed the intense ache in my brain and pull the surge from inside my body. The heat flows from my toes, through my torso, and out of my mind. The psychic force slams into the heavy door. It doesn't budge. My head throbs in warning of its injury and weakness. I go to the door and physically push against it with the meat of my shoulder. There is no way out.

I search my pockets. I find the cellphone the General and Sergeant Major had given me. A quick feeling of anxiousness overcomes me, but it is immediately replaced by disappointment as I notice there are no bars for reception. I wander around the room watching the bars. There is no change to their status. I regrettably put it back into my pocket. I tap my back pocket with my hand, my wallet is still there.

I stand against the wall furthest from the door, face it, and let my legs relax. My body slides down and my butt rests against the cool floor. Now, I wait.

****

My eyes flutter open and adjust slowly to the bright lights above me. My right eye only opens slightly. It is swollen and aches. Some of my dark hair is sprawled across my face. I try to raise a hand to sweep it away and can't. I attempt to move the other, also without any luck. My other limbs are similarly immobilized. I've been in this position before and know exactly what it means, the Society has me again. I blow the hair from my eye and glance around the room. It is empty. It's the only way someone can be a little safer against a person like me. Having anything in the room could mean death. The movement of my head is limited. I turn it slightly to the right. There is a Velcro-like sound as the crusted blood detaches itself from the cloth beneath me. It throbs sorely.

I use my empathic abilities to "feel" around for Brielle. My head hurts even more and starts to thump. I try to ignore it for the moment. Brie is strong and our connection is as well. I concentrate as hard as I can. My brain warns me of a meltdown by pulsing like a jackhammer against my skull. I have to stop. The pain is too much for me to handle. Tears find their way from my eyes and dribble down the sides of my face. I close my eyes until the feeling subsides enough to try again.

****

The thick door begins to open and I quickly get to my feet. The first thing I notice is a pistol. The next thing that strikes my vision is the color of the man's eyes holding the weapon. They are a bright green and luminous. I continue standing against the wall, but I raise my arms up so he knows I'm not a threat. A man wearing all black clothing stands behind him.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" the man with the green eyes asks me.

"I'm Staff Sergeant Joshua Pruitt, United States Army," I respond. He waits for a moment.

"Well, Joshua, that answers the first part of my question. What are you doing here?" he asks again.

"Staff Sergeant Joshua Pruitt, United States Army," as a prisoner of war, I'm not supposed to answer any questions that may inhibit my ability in accomplishing my mission or compromise the mission of the United States military. The ache in my head begins to intensify as the man wearing all black's eyes turn dark. I go for my powers immediately, but am immobilized. Something he's doing to me is not letting me use my powers. The green-eyed guy starts to talk as I stand frozen against the wall.

"I don't know what you're doing here, but I will tell you this. You've bitten off way more than you can chew, chap." I struggle against the unseen force, the pain gets worse. I let out a growl in pain and resistance. "There's no point in trying to fight it, you won't win." My body begins to slide up toward the ceiling slowly. The coarseness of the wall digs into my back. I let out another growl as I grit my teeth. "Are you ready to answer my questions?" I ignore him. The psychic hand starts to pinch at my brain. It feels like tiny needles being rotated around, like acupuncture. "I said, are you ready to answer my questions?" He asks again.

"Yes...yes...stop," I can't withstand any more. The internal pain is too much for me to bear. The prickles in my brain stop, the upward motion becomes a downward one, and my feet are back on the ground. I try to catch my breath. The pressure forcing my body tightly against the wall is still present. "What...what do you...want to know?" I ask. The pain has me forgetting the initial question.

"What are you doing here, Staff Sergeant Joshua Pruitt?" I still remember my P.O.W oath and spew random words.

"I'm here...I'm here to save the woman of my dreams." They are true while witty. Apparently my captor agrees as he lets out a chuckle.

"Really, the woman of your dreams, huh?" he rhetorically asks. "I don't think the woman you seek is here. Now, answer the damn question!"

"I'm looking for Brielle Hudson," I blurt out the response. He stops for a moment.

"What do you want _her_ for?" he asks.

"I was told to come get her and bring her to a safe place."

"Well, my brother, this is a safe place and she will be just fine with me." His words strike me as odd.

"She's here? I have to talk to her." I say excitedly. My interrogator turns to the man in black and hands him the pistol.

"Take care of him," he states simply as he walks out the doorway and out of sight. Knowing Brielle is within reach has my brain in overdrive. I ignore the pain again. I dig deep as I stare at the man with the solid black eyes. I slam him with a blast of blunt power directly in his face. His nose explodes with the impact. The pistol falls to the ground. I silence his whining quickly as I throw his body against a nearby wall. It crashes into it and slumps to the ground, lifeless. Blood paints the wall with a splatter and forms a pool around the corpse on the floor.

I run to the door and peek around the corner. The hallway is plain aside from a few lights dangling from the ceiling. There are a number of doors on either side of the hall. _Where do I begin?_ I ask myself.

****

An all too familiar crack of flesh against flesh echoes in the room as Rebecca opens her eyes groggily. The sting of the impact from the man's hand across her face causes her to tear up. Her bruised face is battered. Her vision clears and she sees him standing in front of her. He has the book in his hand.

"What the hell are you doing with this?" His voice is loud and strong. She doesn't answer him. His free hand goes to her hair and grabs a large thatch of it. He forces her eyes to connect with his. "I asked you a question!" He demands again. The physical agony is too much for her to stand.

"We got it from Brielle's dad," she whimpers the response painfully. He throws her head back further as he releases his grasp and backs away a step.

"What were you intending on doing with it?" She sits silently moaning as her anger begins to mount beyond the discomfort. He goes toward her hair again with an open hand. She doesn't wait for the further abuse.

"We were going to tear the Society apart! Is that what you want to hear?" Her fury intensifies. He backs away again.

"Did you think just by having a list of names that you'd be able to just waltz in and take them out? You are an ignorant girl! We are entirely too much for you to handle and it's time for you to get out of Brielle and my way!" He pulls a gun from his waistband and points it at her chest. There is no time for retaliation. The shot is fired without further conversation.

****

Joshua hears the gunfire down the hall. It comes from a few feet away. He skirts the nearest wall quickly toward it. Hunter steps from the room as he closes the door behind him. Josh doesn't wait for anything. He doesn't know what's just happened, but he does know how this guy works. He uses his ability to slam Hunter into the wall further down the corridor. His body impacts the interior wall and falls to the ground. Blood seeps from the back of his skull and he limply lies motionless on the floor.

Joshua runs to the door from where Hunter had just exited. He sees her immediately. Blood is pouring from the wound in her chest as she gasps for air. He drops to a knee in front of her and begins working on her bindings.

"Stop..." she wheezes, "find Brielle." Her words are labored. A final breath comes from her mouth and her chin falls into her chest. Her body goes completely limp, lifeless.

****

"Noooo!" Brielle's eyes fly open as she feels the last twinkling of Rebecca's emotions. They drop from the face of the earth. Anger floods within her like a damn burst under the river's pressure. Her eyes turn a luminous white and the straps which once kept her confined to the bed begin to shred and fall away. She sits up and steps to the cool floor. She turns her focus to the door. The metal begins to bend outwardly and it explodes into the hallway. It topples, bounces, and lands on Hunter's still body.

Joshua hears the commotion in the hall just outside the room and quickly, yet cautiously, approaches it. He sees her as she rounds the corner. Her eyes glowing and her blonde hair falling behind her like an angel. He recognizes her immediately.

"Brielle," Joshua calls to her. She looks at him angrily through glowing, vengeful eyes.

"What have you done?" Her voice is haunting and hollow, metallic, almost ghostly.

"I didn't..." He doesn't get time to explain. His body is thrown several feet in the opposite direction. He lands hard on his back against the solid floor. The wind is knocked out of his lungs.

She steps into the room where Rebecca's lifeless body rests. Her bright eyes are replaced with their natural blue coloring as tears suddenly flood their brilliance away. She runs toward her and kneels down. She places her hands on Rebecca's knees. "What did he do to you?" Tears flow like rivers down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Rebecca, I'm so sorry." Her right hand goes to the still warm cheek of her friend.

"Brielle, I didn't do this. I tried to stop him." Joshua is standing by the doorway behind her holding his side. She quickly stands and faces him.

"You didn't try hard enough!" She yells to him as the salty tears flow into the corners of her mouth and Rebecca's hand in hers.

"She told me to find you and get you out of here. We can't stay." His hardened soldier's feelings and disciplined emotions take control of the situation. She turns to him and stares into his eyes for a moment.

"Wait, I've seen you before." A puzzled look of confusion comes across her face. "I've dreamt about you." His face begins to mirror hers and then he shakes it off.

"We don't have time for this. We have to go. Trust me." Brielle turns back to her friend and places a hand on the top of her head. She kisses it.

"I'll always love you, Rebecca," she whispers softly as a couple of tears drop into Rebecca's hair. It's their secret, forever.

She turns back toward Josh and walks away from a good friend. She feels an emptiness becoming bigger with each stride. She says a short prayer inside her head as she walks. Joshua reaches down and scoops up the black and gold book from the floor and hands it to Brielle in a confirmation of trust. There doesn't seem to be anyone around as they sneak out of the building, unnoticed.

"Where are we going?" Brielle breaks the silence as she follows behind him. It's the middle of the night now and the city contains little noise.

"We have to go back to the park. Our cars should still be there. Hunter doesn't seem to have many friends." Brielle looks up at the moon as they walk down the sidewalk. Her tears leave dry trails on her face. She also notices the lack of lights in the houses around them. She thinks about his statement and responds.

"Do you know anything about the Society? Do you have any idea what they're capable of? Do you know how many people I've loved that they've taken from me?" Her words become more and more elevated with each question. Joshua continues to walk as if he's ignoring her. She watches his back and gets angrier. She takes a couple quick steps forward and shoves him with both hands against is thick, broad back. He stumbles, but doesn't fall and swiftly turns toward her. He grabs her by the shoulders and looks into her eyes.

"Brielle, I'm sorry. What I know about them is what your father decided to tell in his book. The only thing I care about is making sure that you're safe. Okay?" He is sincere with his words. The look of anger on her face melts away and is replaced with a mournful embarrassment. Her eyes go to the ground. "Let's go." He turns away from her, but checks to ensure that she's still following. He slows down his steps a bit so she is able to keep up. She's crying again. They walk several blocks before finally making it to the park. Both of the cars are still there.

Chapter 16

Friend or Foe

Joshua makes a delayed phone call to the General and is told to get back to Fort Riley as quickly as possible. He gives him a place to meet after a short conversation about the goings on in Topeka. Josh hangs up the phone. Brielle sits beside him in his car. She faces the passenger side window, but he can tell she's still crying. He places a hand on her thigh. The unexpected motion makes her jump.

"I'm sorry, Brielle." Joshua explains. "I'm sorry I couldn't save her and I'm sorry for all the troubles you've gone through in your life." She turns to him briefly.

"It's not your fault, Joshua. There was nothing you could do. There was nothing anyone could do." Her tears begin to flow like the floodgates had just been broken. "Why is it every time I find someone I love and who loves me back, they die? Why can't things just be normal?" Her focus goes back to the window.

"I'm sorry, Brielle," Joshua states again, softly and under his breath. He pulls the car onto the interstate and starts driving west toward the military installation.

****

"Are we ready?" the General speaks into the telephone while he sits at his well-polished desk. "They will be here in about 45 minutes." A moment of silence passes while he listens to the speaker on the other end of the phone. "I know, Sir, I know we shouldn't have let it get this out of control. They'll be here soon and we'll be able to fix it, Sir," another moment of quiet. "Yes, Sir, you have my word." The line on the other end clicks and the General hangs up. He grabs his beret folded neatly on top of the desk and leaves the room.

The halls are quiet. It is well beyond normal working hours for most of the military and civilian men and women who work in the building. His combat boots make a loud thumping noise as he leaves the carpeted hallway and nears the stairwell. It opens into a foyer three stories above the entrance doors. He descends the stairs. More echoes and creaks fill the empty room with each step. The building was constructed during the Civil War and is slowly deteriorating, now a historical landmark.

He gets to the bottom of the stairs and steps onto the ground floor. He exits the building. The old bricks stand tall behind him as he gets into a van parked in the U-shaped drive out in front of the headquarters. He gets in and his driver pulls away from the curb. The General allows his mind to wander through reading of his past and the secrets he's kept as they pull onto the main road and head east toward the airfield located on the far side of the post.

During the Cold War, the world was at a high level of alert. Russia had been threatening a hostile takeover and had the nuclear means in which to accomplish it. The United States teamed up with England and Canada for some experimental combat of their own. They had discovered that the U.S.S.R. was inviting psychics into their midst to aide against them. They weren't sure how they were using them, but the reality of the fact was threat enough.

Research to locate their subjects was conducted, invites were handed out, and experiments began. The turnout when it came to psychics was surprising. It was a time when people didn't talk about such things. The governments gathered their top scientists studying the areas of paranormal and psychic phenomena.

Many of the people who showed up were nothing more than frauds looking for attention, but there were a handful of them who turned out to be promising and a great benefit to the cause. The government carefully disposed of the make believers and went about their business.

The truly talented ones aided in finding the exact locations of the nuclear missile silos throughout the Russian countryside. They stopped ours, and many others, possible annulation.

After the Cold War had come to an end, there was much more for the American government to do. The psychics were kept, willingly, and things got more interesting. The scientists pushed the people to their limits in using their abilities. The lavish lifestyle and money was enough to make it worth it for the group. Sometimes the experiments would end in tears, no matter.

Drugs were administered. Psychic powers enhanced greatly. Lunacy followed some of the people due to stress, others because of the drugs. They were experimented upon until they were of no more use, disposed of like the Jews during the Holocaust were years later. They were perfected and peaked until the government could do nothing more.

There was a group who had gained the trust and like of the higher officials in charge of the project, they called themselves the Society. After many discussions, their main spokespeople made a deal with the United States government. It was a deal like no other. They would be allowed to leave the secret military compound and would continue to receive the government's backing as long as the Society agreed to never talk publicly about what had gone on over the years. They were to lie quietly in the shadows. The government would continue to cover for them along the way as long as they were among the unknown. They had made a deal which had stayed in effect for decades. Brandon Hudson had broken that pact and all bets were now off.

The General's mind jumps back to reality as his driver takes a right turn onto the main entrance to the air field. Streetlights sprinkle the lonely compound in the distance. New projects are springing up all around the outskirts of the camp. New barracks, a mess hall, and numerous other buildings are in process for the Kansas National Guard and Reservists. The road is a lonely one located on the farthest edge. They near a T-intersection and make a left turn.

The area becomes even more bleak and empty as they drive. Vehicular lights from the interstate located to the south invade the darkness surrounding them. Empty fields take over as they near a large cement bunker covered in sod. The only visible sign of the building is the entrance side upon approach. A lone door decorates the front. The rest of the bunker looks like a hill in the middle of a field, several football fields away from anything else.

His driver comes to a stop in the grass and the General gets out. The van drives away, disappearing into the night from where it'd come.

****

Joshua notices the lights of the airfield to his front as he drives along the final curve of the interstate before the turn to the Army post. Signs mark the military installation's location without mistake. A few silent helicopters sit on the tarmac for display. The general public gets an eyeful as they pass Fort Riley.

Brielle watches quietly out the window beside him. Her tears have subsided and she is silent. Joshua takes the exit toward the post's guarded entrance gate. The lights from the guards' shacks are bright and directed toward oncoming traffic as they approach. Josh turns off the headlamps on the car, leaving only the fog lamps lit. He pulls beside a civilian uniformed in a light blue security uniform with a shiny badge and an obvious patch on his sleeve. He digs out his military issued identification card and shows the guard. The large man quickly checks the accuracy of the ID and sends SSG Pruitt on his way.

He drives to the end of the road and winds his way around the installation. As he nears the end of the road, he doesn't realize he's just begun traveling exactly as the General had nearly an hour ago. The headlights from a lone van pass him as he heads away from the post toward the location he'd been informed to go to. He rolls his window down a crack. The cool, near dawn Kansas air flows in. A momentary shiver passes through his body and subsides as quickly as it had come.

"We're almost there," he announces to her as he notices the lights off to his right. He turns toward them onto the outwardly lying road. She shifts in her seat, sitting up.

"Are you sure this is safe?"

"I'm a Staff Sergeant in the United States Army. I have been trained to trust what the people in charge of me tell me to do. It's not the Society, Brielle, it's the Army." She looks at him for a second and then goes to observing the camp as he drives. He approaches the T, comes to a stop, and makes the left turn. He continues driving. They are silent. He is a little nervous, but not nearly as much as Brielle is.

He travels slowly along the edge of the secluded road as he searches for the building. Darkness is all around them. His headlights catch a glimpse from the gray surface. He pulls up to the bunker, kills his lights, and turns off the car. They get out. The sounds of croaking frogs and the chirping of crickets stand in the foreground over the vehicular traffic on the nearby interstate they'd just come from. They begin walking toward the lonely building. Brielle grabs his hand suddenly and whispers.

"Joshua, there's something not right about this place." He looks around as they walk.

"It's just old and creepy looking, Brielle. I trust the Army, don't worry. You'll be fine." His words are only reassuring to him. Her grip on his hand tightens as he raps his fist against the bunker door. They wait a few seconds before the rough door opens. An old man dressed in an Army Combat Uniform answers, the General. He smiles at them and motions them inside. The interior of the building is empty except for elevator lift located at the other end. The bunker is only about fifteen feet in length and about eight feet wide. After closing the door, the General reaches out a hand for Joshua to shake.

"Wonderful, Staff Sergeant Pruitt, and this must be the infamous Brielle Hudson?" Their handshake drops as his gray eyes go to her. Brielle looks at him and smiles. She still feels uneasy about the situation. "It's very nice to finally meet you, Miss Hudson."

"You too," Brielle answers uneasily.

"The two of you must be famished. Let's go downstairs and get something to eat, maybe chat a little. There's so much about you that I don't know, Brielle." He motions toward the elevator platform. They walk to it and get on. A control panel sticks up from the edge of the metal footboard. The General pushes a button and they slowly begin to sink down into the ground.

The platform goes three stories underground before coming to a halt. A cool dampness fills the air, an earthy smell. He reaches toward a thick metal door and slides it open. Clear florescent illumination pours from within the facility. A white sterility decorates the walls and ceilings, but it is old and not well maintained. Bits of paint peels in random places on the barriers within, they step off the lift and enter. The lighting hangs from thin metal chains along the ceiling. Tiny spots of rust coats the edges of the lights' frames. Brielle gets a chill as she notices a lone soldier manning a desk in front of a long hallway. He stands immediately. The General motions for him to sit, he obeys.

They walk down the hall, the General leading the way. All of the doors they pass are closed and there doesn't seem to be anyone else here besides them and the soldier at the desk. They come to another corridor and take a right, the hall they were in continues further. They travel passed five or six more doors and the room opens up. A cafeteria with twelve to fifteen perfectly aligned tables with benches on both sides fill the room. There is enough seating for well over a hundred people. He guides them to a round table tucked away in the corner away from the others and motions for them to sit.

Shortly, a female in military uniform, wearing little to no make-up, Brielle notices, carries trays of food into them. A cheese omelet, two links of sausage, and a biscuit sit on the plates. Brielle's stomach is not yet settled. She attributes it to the pregnancy, but also knows that she hasn't eaten in what seems like forever. She waits for Joshua and the General to start and follows suit.

"Sir, what's the plan now that Brielle is here safe?" Joshua breaks the silence. The General looks up at him.

"Well, according to our sources, the Society is planning something. We're not quite sure what exactly yet. Give us a couple of days and we'll know." His eyes go back and forth between Brielle and Josh as he speaks. "We've got some really good men and women working inside their ranks. It won't take long."

"What about me, Sir?" Joshua inquires, "Isn't there anything that I can do?" The General's eyes fix on Josh's.

"It's best that you just lay low here for a while, SSG Pruitt." He goes back to his food. "How's breakfast?" He directs his attention to Brielle. The uneasy feeling starts to raise again as she chews her omelet. Her food is nearly half gone. Her eyes start to blur as she begins to answer. No words come out of her mouth as she attempts to answer. She attempts to shake the feeling. Her eyelids flutter and a grayish mist rolls into her vision. Josh begins to sway next to her.

"What did you do," he yells as he reaches over the table toward the General's collar. Brielle slumps back in her seat against the wall behind her. Joshua falls forward onto the table as the General backs away from his grasp. Soldiers and men in lab coats flood the room as darkness overtakes their prisoners.

Chapter 17

Sweet Revenge

Hunter lies in his hospital bed in pain, but peaceful. He doesn't know how he got there, assuming someone from the compound, a Society member, brought him. His entire body aches from the attack. He glances around the room in a haze. The lights are bright and pour in on him. He is surrounded by white, a blurry fog. He looks toward his left arm and follows the IV tubing to the bag on the pole. He notices a clear liquid dripping. He watches it drip, drip, drip as his eyes close lazily.

Donovan has his little green-eyed boy shipped off to England after the arrival of the twins, Bennett and Brielle. He doesn't want there to be any distractions. He loves Hunter, but business is business.

The airplane lands and Hunter's chaperone sees him to another guardian awaiting his arrival at the gate. She appears to be a kind woman who's very refined and disciplined. Her dirty blonde hair is tightly wound into a bun nestled neatly atop her head. Her blue eyes sparkle and welcome the little boy upon entrance. She wears a white blouse with ruffles down the front and a mid-thigh gray skirt, loosely hanging. Her shoes are just as she appears, low heeled and black, not too much, not too little. Her make-up is minimal, nearly nonexistent.

"Hello there, Hunter," she says to him sweetly as she nods approval to his chaperone from Paris. He dismisses himself quietly into a crowd nearby. "My name is Beverly and I will be your caretaker from now on. Is that alright?" His five-year-old eyes are overwhelmed by all the traffic, but he acknowledges her question politely. He doesn't completely understand why his father found it necessary to send him away. He knows that he loves him and he promised to visit often before he left. That was good enough for Hunter.

They walk through the people, he holds her hand. They make their way to the front door. The driver of the black Rolls Royce is placing his bags into the trunk. He quickly closes the back and opens the door for Beverly and Hunter. The little boy gets in first and she eases in behind. The door closes, the driver gets into position, and he pulls away from the curb.

The fog is thick, Hunter notices, very unlike what Paris was like. The grass is a brilliant green, different from any he's ever seen. They drive for what seems to be an eternity before pulling up to a large, beautifully carved mansion. Gargoyles and lions decorate the outside around the house. The yard is vast and decorated with perfectly cut hedges. He is lost and yet, excited.

Beverly shows him to his new room. It is dark. The furniture is dark, wood, and highly polished. It is not a room for a young boy.

"There aren't any toys?" Hunter asks coyly.

"Toys belong in the playroom. I'll show you that later." She states kindly and with a gentle smile. "For now, I need you to get washed up and ready for supper. The wash closet is through that door." She points to the right. A large bureau stands next to a lonely door. "Come downstairs when you're finished." She leaves him alone. He goes to the bathroom and opens the door. The room is a quarter the size of the bedroom. A long countertop with a lone sink to the left, and a large white bathtub with golden lion's paws for feet, stands on the far end of the room. Hunter turns on the water and grabs an untouched bar of green glycerin soap from a porcelain holder and begins to lather up his hands. He watches in the mirror before him as he washes. His eyes are empty and lost. His emotions are numb. He continues to stare at himself. A face begins to form in the reflection over his.

"I love you, my son," Donovan speaks through his mind and sends a vision of himself into Hunter's brain. Hunter smiles at the man in the mirror, a little less lost and alone. "I will always be a thought away." The image fades along with Hunter's grin. He rinses his hands and goes downstairs to dinner.

Hunter jumps awake in the hospital bed, but only for a moment. "Why did you have to go? You were stronger than them. I don't understand." The words are muttered under his breath as the painkillers grab ahold of him once again and darkness overcomes.

A thirteen-year-old boy stands in front of a mirror in the main hall. His is tall and gangly, but nearing maturation in physicality. He stares at his reflection, his eyes watering.

"I need you to try harder! Harder damn it! This is unacceptable!" Beverly yells at the teary-eyed child in front of her as her thick heel clomps against the hard wood floor. Her bun is disheveled and bits of hair are poking out randomly. They wave in the air with the motions of her head. She stoops down in front of him and takes his shoulders, turning him toward her. "Your father is becoming disappointed, Hunter." Her voice softens due to the distance between them. "He's a very talented man, as is your mother. You have to try harder."

"I'm disappointed too," Hunter says softly with his eyes toward the ground.

"Well, then you need to try harder," she responds.

"I can't!" He yells loudly in her face as his eyes dig into hers. He quickly pushes her backward. She lands hard on her butt and he runs up the stairs to his room. His feet only touch every third step on the way. He bolts down the hallway and into the bedroom. The door slams violently and bounces a picture against the neighboring wall. He flops face down on his bed and begins to cry. He slowly drifts off to sleep as the sun begins to set.

His body stands near hers, Beverly's. The dream is vivid and more real than any he's ever had. He looks down at his hands. They are transparent like a ghostly apparition. His breathing becomes heavy for a moment as he tries to make sense of what's going on. Calming himself down, he focuses on her. _It's only a dream,_ he tells himself.

She sits peacefully brushing her dirty blonde hair in front of a large mirror. Her make-up and accessories are neatly fashioned atop the table's surface. She runs the brush in long flowing strokes. He's never seen her like this before, hair always in a bun. She looks like a sensual woman. She doesn't notice as he approaches her. He sees his own hazy reflection in the mirror and is awaiting a response. There isn't one. The thin straps of her cream-colored, satiny nightgown rest calmly on her narrow shoulders. He reaches out and rests his hands on them. There is still no reaction from Beverly. He leans in toward her ear.

"Hello," he whispers delicately. There is a sudden flickering in his transparency. He solidifies for seconds like a television searching for reception. Beverly jumps from her seat as she notices the boy in her mirror and lets out a scream. She turns to the place where she'd seen him. He's not there, but he is. Hunter sees her. She doesn't see him.

"Get out of my room!" she yells into her emptiness and goes to search under the bed. She passes through the ghostly boy in front of her as she walks. Hunter is as surprised as she is as he watches the dream from within.

He wakes in his bed. The moonlight pours in through his window. There is silence around him. He is still fully clothed and the tears have dried on his face. He slides from his bed and slips out the door to her room. He gently turns the knob and peeks inside. She is sleeping soundly with one arm under her pillow and the other on her side. Her blonde hair flows gently around her head. He creeps inside silently. He's never been in her room before. He looks around the corner and sees the place where she'd been sitting brushing her hair. All of her accessories shadow neatly in the moonlit room on the surface. The mirror reflects his outline as he backs away as stealthily as he'd come and he eases the door closed behind him.

He returns to his own room, removes his clothing, and gets under the blankets. He stares up at the ceiling. _There has to be something more to this,_ he thinks to himself as he drifts back off to sleep.

He groggily opens his eyes as the nurse fiddles with the IV bag next to his bed. The sunlight pours in on him, but the drugs are stronger than its rays.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Johnson?" she asks him roughly. Hunter pauses for a moment wondering if it's the combination of drugs and sleepiness that has him hearing things. Mr. Johnson? His cover delicately schemed by whoever put him in the hospital. Obviously work of his faithful companions in the Society. He takes a breath before answering and winces in pain. He lets out a small groan as a sharp stabbing discomfort hits him in the side. "I'll take that as a 'no so good," she reacts to his response. "I'm going to increase the morphine drip a little. That should help you sleep." She moves the plastic slide attached to the tubing. He closes his eyes again, not because of the drugs, but due to the pain.

For two years, Hunter continues to haunt Beverly's dreams. He stalks her, taunts her, and induces fears. He figures out how to interact without detection. He doesn't expose his talents to anyone. He uses her mind as his own demented playground. He fulfills unwelcomed sexual desires. He uses her like a toy until she can no longer take the guilt. For weeks prior, her tight bun is messy and imperfect. Her fair skin is blackened around the eyes. She becomes a recluse and avoids all contact with Hunter. He knows why. He wants to find out how far he can take things with his dream invasions. He finds out early one morning as one of the housekeepers finds Beverly dangling from the ceiling by a rope. She was his first. This is when he realizes the power he possesses. He doesn't tell Donovan until years later, after perfecting the gift.

Donovan is as proud as any father can be. He is astounded and has many questions. The father and son rekindle their bond over dinner in an upscale restaurant downtown London. Near the end of the conversation, Donovan makes an announcement.

"Brielle has escaped with her father. I have converted the boy, but Brandon and Brielle must be stopped. And, regrettably, your mother is dead as well." He says the words carefully and under his breath. Hunter is at a loss. Donovan doesn't seem affected by her death. He hasn't seen his mother in many years, but she was his mother none-the-less. Anger takes over inside him, but he maintains control.

"What do you need me to do?" he asks calmly as moisture forms over one of his eyes.

"Nothing, I need you to stay here for now. I'll call for you when it's time." Hunter begins to interrupt and is silenced quickly. "Bennett will help in the beginning, but I need you to start working on Brielle. Use your gift to entice her. Make her want you. That girl has tremendous talent and her father will not be allowed to stand in the way." A smirk of pleasure forms on Donovan's face. "That will be up to you, my son." Hunter agrees as he ponders over his father's plan. Donovan fills his son in on all of the goings-on in the Society. He entrusts him with personal secrets. He passes on his legacy. The two part company after hours of conversation.

Weeks later, Donovan does call out to him, not for him to come, but to announce the fact that he's dying. He uses his last bits of energy to send images to his son, mental flashes. Brielle standing off in the distance with her eyes glowing. Bennett and Brandon's confrontation, everything is a flash before Hunter's eyes. Rage fills the young man once again. Now more than ever, there is work to be done and he has to avenge his father.

Hunter jumps up in his hospital bed. It is dark. His ribs hurt, but the pain is minimal. He delicately removes the IV needle from his arm. He now knows what he needs to do. He needs to get out of this hospital, make a telephone call, and get the revenge he was destined to have. Since everyone who Brielle loved is gone, he decides to set his mark for Joshua. _They're a package deal anyway,_ he tells himself as he sneaks from the confines of the hospital.

Chapter 18

Decisions, decisions, decisions

"Let me out of here!" I yell as I bang my fists against the brick. The ache shoots through my body. My hands go to my stomach as the baby kicks me violently in the ribcage. I let out a little groan.

Until recently, they've had me in a trance-like state. They used drugs, apparently something not harmful to the baby.

"Brielle, stop it, you're going to have him before he's ready." A voice speaks to me calmly over the intercom system inside my lonely cell. "We wouldn't have brought you out of it if we'd planned on keeping you cooped up. Calm yourself." The speaker goes silent. I walk over to my metal bed which is cemented deeply into the floor. The room resembles a prison cell. Everything is tightly secured and immovable. _I'm having a boy?_ I think about the words the man spoke moments ago. He said _have him_ when he was talking about calming down right? I lose myself in thought while I wait. My unborn baby is my only companion.

****

I pace back and forth in an empty room when an all-too-familiar voice speaks to me, "SSG Pruitt," it's the General, "we have a problem."

"Damn right we have a problem, Sir!" I yell so loudly that the sound of my own voice bouncing off the walls almost hurts my ears. "You've kept me in this room for months!"

"SSG Pruitt, there are bigger problems to discuss. I need you to calm down. We need to talk face-to-face. It's about your parents." Upon delivery of the final sentence, my heart drops into my knees. I have no idea what he's about to tell me, but I know it can't be good news. I'll listen to what the old man has to say.

My door begins to open. The General enters.

"Come with me, Joshua." His face is solemn. I don't ready myself for an attack. I follow him from the confines of my holding cell. He leads me to an office, obviously his. Books line the walls' shelves. They are mostly Army Field Manuals and collections of Army Regulations. He offers me the chair directly in front of his desk. "I want you sitting when I tell you the news."

I take the seat and begin to speak, "Sir, what the hell is going on?" My words are loud and obviously annoyed. "I bring Brielle here to you and you hold me for months? Now, you let me out like nothing's gone on?"

"SSG Pruitt, Miss Hudson is fine, everything here is fine."

"What do you mean everything _here_?" I am relieved to know Brielle is okay, but there is a tone to his voice and he referred to me as Joshua earlier. "Sir, what do you mean?" I ask him again after not getting an answer as quickly as I wanted. He folds his hands in front of his face.

"SSG Pruitt, I just received a phone call a few minutes ago." He pauses for a moment as he thinks about how to say the rest. "Hunter was on the other end." He takes another pause as my heart begins to flutter. "He's in Ohio." Silence falls between the two of us. I am in shock, but my blood begins to boil.

"What is he doing there?" I ask loudly.

"Josh, I am letting you go. You have to get there quickly. I've booked a flight out of Manhattan and it leaves within the hour. My helicopter will fly you there. There will be a rental waiting for you at the airport when you arrive in Ohio." He is very businesslike in his tone, but there is an underlying bit of regret. I jump from my chair.

"I need Brielle to come with me." There is urgency in my voice.

"That's not possible, SSG Pruitt. Go help your parents and come back here. She must stay until the baby's born. She won't be of much use to you right now anyway."

"You called for me, Sir?" There is a voice at the door behind me. I turn. A young Sergeant renders a salute.

"Take SSG Pruitt to the tarmac. Is everything ready?" the General asks as he returns the salute.

"Yes, Sir, everything is prepared as per your request."

"That'll be all then, Sergeant. SSG Pruitt, good luck and watch your back." The General shakes my hand. I am confused by the change of heart, but grateful to be free. All I can think about is how quickly I can make it to Ohio and hope that Hunter hasn't done the worst.

I leave the General at his desk and the Sergeant and I travel briskly down the hallway, up the elevator lift, and out into the sunlight. The natural light is blinding, it's been awhile since I've been exposed to it. I put my hand over my face and jump into the General's van which is waiting there for us. It takes off immediately for the tarmac. I see the wind blowing violently as we near the airfield. I keep my head low and my ears covered, I get in the bird. We are in the air within moments. My mind wanders between Brielle and my parents. She is the girl of my dreams, literally. We aren't in love, but I care for her. There is an emotional connection. I will be back for her as soon as I can. I look out at the nearly invisible hump of earth and sod below. _I will be back, Brielle._

****

I hear his voice inside my head. It is nothing but a murmur. Where is he going? He's leaving me here? I sit on my bed as my heart drops. My belly is huge. My baby is so active. He kicks me all the time. _At least I've got you,_ I say to him as I rub the outside. I feel him stirring around inside me. He brushes my hand with an unknown body part. Even though he's Hunter's child, an evil man who tricked me into loving him, I love this being inside me. He is _my_ baby! I lie down on my bed and continue to run my hands along my belly. A lone tear of frustration drips from the corner of my eye onto my pillow. I close my eyes and think about possible names for _my_ unborn baby boy.

Dreams start pouring into my head as my mind wanders. A waving canopy of a dense growth of trees leaves saying hello from above as I look up. The grass is lush and damp beneath my bare feet. I glance down and I can see them because my belly is no longer inflated with another life. I don't panic. I know it's just a dream. My light-blue, satiny nightgown flows gently in the breeze. I look back up at the leaves and notice a glorious moon peeking in on me. I begin to walk toward it as the giant orb starts to sink slowly in the horizon. The trees thin out around me and soft sand meets me at the wooded edge. The moon settles in front of me, full and pure. There is an empty landscape, only sand as far as I can see. Suddenly a rush of water comes flowing and twinkling toward me from the valley. The wave isn't high, frightening, or dangerous. The water is calm and gentle. It settles as quickly as it approached, stopping a few feet from my naked toes. The moon's twin smiles from the water's reflective surface. I walk to the liquid and feel it as it licks my toes. The water is cool against my feet.

_Brielle,_ a voice calls to me as I stare down at the lake. I look up quickly. I see them as they begin to solidify from ghostly figures. _Hello, my darling little girl,_ I recognize the voices and the silhouettes immediately. My mother and father walk toward me on top of the water. They are only a few feet away. My eyes begin to glaze with a liquid of their own. I walk in their direction a couple of steps. The water engulfs my shins. I stop when I notice my father carrying a squirming toddler. My eyes go down to my empty belly. I look back up and they are directly in front of me. My mother is more beautiful than I remember and my father as handsome as he ever was. The little boy looks at me. His hair is as black as the night and his eyes are like dark chocolate. My father hands him to me and I respond uneasily at first.

"He's yours, Brielle. We had to come to see him," my father says. His voice is deep and perfect, his eyes dark brown and soulful. I look down at the baby as he stares up at me silently. His eyes are just like my father's in every detail.

"We wanted to help you name him, Brie." My mother's voice is as crisp and articulated as the still air around us. I don't want to speak out of fear of waking up. Though it's only a dream, I haven't seen them in so long. "Benjamin Brandon Hudson, son of my right hand. He will be your strength." My mother sounds angelic as she says it, insightful. I look at her as the tears roll down my face. They are tears of longing, but also joyful. I smile at them as they begin to fade. The baby in my arms follows them in the haze. _We love you, Brielle, our angel_ their words enter my ears gently and simultaneously. The water begins to recede as if it were being sucked into a straw. My toes are glittered with dry sand. A gentle wind begins to blow sending tiny goose bumps across my naked flesh. A tear falls from my chin and lands on the earth below. It dries immediately. Leaves begin to rain down from above. They pour down upon me and I stare through them at the moon. It smiles at me brightly.

I open my eyes slowly as I lie on my back. Drying tears pepper my pillow. I squeeze the last one from the corner with my eyelid. I place my hands on my pregnant belly and say, "Benjamin Brandon Hudson," aloud. I smile and close my eyes again.

****

The plane lands in Ohio and I make my way through the terminal to my car as quickly as I can. The long anticipated wait at the counter doesn't happen. The man hands me the keys as soon as I approach.

"Everything is taken care of, Sir," he announces as I take the keys from him. "Your car is at the curb just outside those doors." He points across the hall from where we're standing.

"Thanks," I mutter under my breath, mostly from surprise. I go outside and get in. I'm pretty familiar with the area and don't need a map. I speed away from the curb and race down the countryside highway. Acreage upon acreage of farmland lines the state's landscape. Silos and Holstein cattle are seen often. I drive as quickly as I can without being pulled over by the state troopers. That would only slow me down.

I see a couple of the farmhouses near the edge of the town I'd grown up in. Excitement begins to take hold of my foot as I increase my speed. I see more of the homes and a sign for the off ramp. I take the exit and turn right at the stop sign. The farming community is quiet. A few children are in the yards, but there isn't as much going on as I remember from my childhood. I continue down the road. My parents live on the other side of town and a down a short driveway surrounded by trees. They'd moved a few years ago, a smaller home. My father claimed they didn't need the room they had in the other house now that I was gone. He was right.

I near the edge of the town and see the driveway. I turn right onto the gravel. The trees become thick right away. Random puddles rest in potholes as I drive along slowly. I see the house beyond the foliage. I stop the car and get out. I decide to approach on foot. I have no idea what he's doing in there, if he's even still here. A dog barks from one of the homes nearby. The sound of it makes me jump a little with surprise.

I go to the back of the house. It's one level, but I'm able to avoid the windows. I approach the backdoor carefully and reach for the knob. It turns easily. I open it and look inside. I step in. I don't notice anyone right away, but it doesn't take long before I see them side-by-side tied to chairs in the living room.

"Oh, thank God, you're okay," I go to them relieved. Their mouths are gagged and they are muttering. My mother has tears forming in her gentle eyes. I reach for her gag when a shot rings out. Blood starts to pour from her chest. Another gunshot, this time it's for my father. His shirt begins to change color, "You son-of-a-bitch!" I yell as loudly as I can. My face turns red in anger as the rage fills me. My eyes change to black and I bury my power into his chest. His jade-green eyes reflect a look of surprise as the force crushes his ribs into his lungs. His body smashes through the wall behind him. The gun flies passed him into the room.

"I...don't care...what you...do to me," his words are broken by the pain. "I've...done what...our father wanted. Nothing matters...now." His face turns pale. I turn toward my parents. I go to my mother first and remove her gag. Tears are now flowing violently down my cheeks as the saliva is thick in my mouth.

"I'm gonna call for help, Mom, okay. Hang on okay?" I am overcome by desperation. I go to the kitchen for the telephone and grab it from its cradle. I dial 9-1-1. A woman answers and I tell her quickly what's happening and hang up. I don't have time to wait. I go back to my mother and father. They are both pale. I'm too late. I drop to my knees in front of them and take their hands in mine as the tears continue to flow.

Another gunshot rings out, it grazes my arm slightly. The cloth on my shirt shreds a bit. I jump up and turn toward Hunter for the last time. I walk in his direction, yelling as I approach, "I want you to suffer! I won't kill you! You're already gonna die!" I blast him with another telekinetic force in the chest, pushing his ribs further into his lungs. The bones puncture the interior, muscled flesh. He falls to the ground. I use my abilities to push the gun beneath a piece of furniture too low for a hand to get at it. I watch as he squirms and his lips begin to turn blue. He begins to choke on his own blood and fluids. I go back to my mother and father. Until the authorities arrive, I cry.

Chapter 19

Benjamin Brandon Hudson

Her eyes fly open as the contractions start. They don't start slowly, they are intense and painful. Brielle lets out an agonizing scream and her hands go to her belly. She feels the wetness beneath her butt. As the contraction subsides, she eases herself from the bed. Her feet touch the cool floor and she moves her hands toward her face. The right one is stained with blood. Her hands begin to shake. She looks at the bedding next to her. There is a large patch of the red liquid, the edges are slightly dry. She stands and moves toward the door. Her hands cradle her stomach on the way, hoping for a kick or a sign of movement. Keeping one beneath her belly, she pounds on the door with the bloody one.

"Help me! Someone please help me!" It takes a lot of effort to shout the words. She doesn't have enough energy to do much more. Her fist pounds against the metal.

"Brielle, what's the matter?" The voice comes from the speaker in her room.

"There's blood everywhere," she explains, "please help me." Her mind starts to float as dizziness sets in. She braces herself against the door. Her eyes flutter and her body crumples to the floor.

The latch scrapes from its confines within the door frame and they push it open. It stops against Brielle's knees. One of the soldiers pokes his head inside.

"We have to be careful. She's against the door. She's unconscious," he says as he slowly maneuvers the door. Her legs are gently pushed inward. She is motionless. "Someone go get a gurney!" the soldier barks orders to anyone listening. A young Private turns and runs to the infirmary and returns quickly. The wheels squeak loudly against the walls as he pushes it along. The General makes his way to Brielle's room and assists with the movement of the unresponsive young woman's body. They get her on the cart and wheel it down the hall.

"The medical team is on their way. I want you men to get her in the room and get out. Do you understand me?" the General takes control of the situation. They all respond with nods. They arrive at the room, wheel her in, and leave as they are told. The General stays as they secure the door behind him.

He stands beside her with her hand in his. There is a certain level of regret. He feels guilt, guilt for the past events, for Joshua and his parents, and for a bleeding young woman helplessly lying before him. He has his orders, but he doesn't know how long he can continue to follow them. He is at a moral crossroads. He watches as her chest rises and falls as though she's sleeping deeply. He turns her arm to check her radial pulse, it seems fine. He continues to hold her hand and waits.

The metal screech announces the arrival of the medical team.

"It's about damn time!" the General says as he places her hand back onto the gurney before anyone notices.

"We're sorry, Sir, there was a convoy on the road and we couldn't get around it." An Army Major, a female already wearing her medical scrubs answers. Her thinly framed glasses ride the tip of her narrow nose. She quickly begins digging through cabinets. A young male Captain follows in behind her. He is also dressed for the occasion, but only wears the scrub shirt with Army Combat Uniform pants and tan combat boots.

"Sir," he addresses the General quickly and with a nod. There is no time for pleasantries and they both know it.

"Major, I expect you to do everything you can to make sure that Miss Hudson is okay. I'll leave you to your work. Push the button if you need any help," the General points to the wall as he leaves and is acknowledged. He slides the thick metal latch into place and rests against the door for a moment. He lets out a slow sigh and walks down the hall to his office, praying as he walks.

The Major and Captain retrieve everything they will need immediately and grab gloves. They work quickly and efficiently. The Major breaks the ammonia tablet and places it under Brielle's nose. Her eyes flicker open and she tries to sit up. The Captain places a hand across her chest.

"Miss Hudson, don't try to sit up. We're here to take care of you." Brielle looks at him in confusion. His emotional status is genuine. She calms down as the contractions start to come again. She screams in pain. "Miss Hudson, I'm going to give you some pain medication if that's alright?" the Captain asks.

"Yes!" Brielle responds loudly. He immediately goes to the cabinet for the drugs, uncaps an empty syringe, and draws the proper dose. He gently pushes the needle into her vein. "It's too late for anything better. Your contractions are too far along."

"Miss Hudson, I'm going to need you to get onto this table," the Major motions to a table with metal stirrups nearby. "We'll help you when you're ready." The pain begins to lessen and she lets them know she's okay to move.

Brielle's dilation is fast and the agony is strong. She's been through a lot in her lifetime, but this is by far the worst she's ever had to endure. Though it is quick, it seems like an eternity before they allow her to push. When the time comes, it is both a relief and even more pain still. She still doesn't know if Benjamin is alright. They haven't said anything about him. The Major heads the operation below her waist while the Captain temporarily takes the place where a husband would normally stand as Brielle bears down on his hand and yells at the top of her lungs.

Eventually her hard work pays off. She falls back against the bed with exhaustion and listens. Her head is throbbing and her eyeballs feel like they're going to pop from their sockets. The baby is removed and the Captain quickly goes to assist the Major. Brielle looks up to see a blue baby lying lifeless in the Major's arms. The Captain scoops him away from her. Brielle begins to cry and sobs in whispers. She doesn't have the energy to make as much noise as she'd like. He takes the baby to the nearby gurney and begins mouth-to-mouth. He gently blows in over the mouth and noise and then goes to the baby's chest for compressions. Benjamin's little arms flop with each push against his delicate sternum. Brielle watches helplessly. _Come on baby Benjamin, please be ok,_ she pushes a thought to him, _please be okay._ The tears continue to flow from her face as she speaks to him telepathically.

Minutes pass before the Captain's efforts pay off. The baby spits out sticky mucus. It flows from the corners of his mouth. He grabs the suction bulb and begins to remove the rest of the fluid from the baby's nose and mouth. A strong, violent cry escapes his lungs suddenly. Everyone smiles, especially mom. The bluish tinted skin begins to change to reds and pinks. The Captain starts to towel him dry as the Major gets Brielle to rid her body of the remaining afterbirth. The baby's hair is long and black. His eyes peek through their slits, a deep brown. He continues to cry as the man wraps him tightly and hands him to his mother.

"Just for a minute, Miss Hudson, I need to take him to make sure he's alright," he tells her. Panic quickly takes her.

"You can't take him from me! You can't have him!" she yells through her weakened state. The Major pushes the button on the wall as per the General's instructions. The door opens seconds later. The General approaches the bed as he momentarily dismisses the medical team.

"Brielle, I am not going to take him from you. I promise you that. No more tricks. I've hurt far too many people." He places his hand on her head and looks into her eyes. She notices that his eyes are hollow and sad and she feels his extreme emptiness and sincerity. She allows him to take Benjamin from her. The Major comes back inside to get her cleaned up and the Captain gathers the baby from the General.

"Sir, you have a telephone call," someone announces over the PA system. He goes to his office and picks up the line with a flashing red light.

"Sir, they're dead." He recognizes the voice right away.

"Joshua, both of them?" he asks.

"No, Sir, all _three_ of them," Josh sadly remarks.

"He was there? I'm sorry. At least you're alright."

"Well, Sir, I'm going to need some help. They've got me in jail for suspicion. I can't really deny it. I was there and called 911." His voice isn't as it usually is. He sounds scratchy and dry.

"I'll have someone there in a couple of hours."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Brielle had the baby, Joshua, a few minutes ago." There is silence on the other end. "I'm going to find a way to get the two of you out of here as soon as the baby is healthy enough to do so," he whispers the words. More silence follows the statement. "I'll have someone there soon." He hangs up the telephone.

Chapter 20

The Plot Thickens

I rock my little Benjamin in my room. The General has made it more comfortable while I heal. My baby boy stares at me as he squeezes my index finger with a pudgy hand. He drinks from his bottle calmly. His eyes are a gorgeous brown and they remind me of my father's. His hair is soft and thick. It's only been a couple of days, but I fell instantly in love with him. I have nobody. He's my strength. He's everything and the only thing to me. He's my son. I kiss his tiny fist and enjoy the moment.

****

"Sir, how are we going to do that?" I ask the General as we approach the bunker in his van.

"Josh, leave all the details up to me. Don't worry about it. I need you to get in there and let her know you're okay. I haven't really told her anything. She's been wondering where you are, but I figure the explanations are yours to give."

I open the door and get out of the van. I enter the bunker and go down the lift. For now, we have no choice but to stay here. From what I'd been told, Benjamin hadn't been born in the best condition. I don't want to take any chances. I pass the Private at the desk and walk down the hallway toward her room. I go inside and behold the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. There's a young woman with flowing blonde hair and the most gorgeous blue eyes, holding a little bundle in her arms. I'd found Brielle to be attractive in the past, but it'd been so long, she seems so much more mature than she had when we'd first met in person.

I go over to her and drop to a knee beside the chair. I see Benjamin. He is asleep, his lips lightly suckling on a bottle.

"Isn't he the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?" Brielle breaks my concentration on the little life in her arms. I look up into her eyes.

"Almost," I say softly and with a smile. She smiles back uncomfortably. She doesn't know what to think by the way she responded.

"What I think is," she replies to my thoughts, "we've both been through a lot together and...well...I'm not sure what I think." She blushes a little. I quickly change the subject.

"How's he doing?"

"They say he's going to be fine, but they still need to check him a few times a day to make sure. They ran some tests to make sure his oxygen flow is okay. Everything seems fine anyway." Her eyes go back to him. I place a hand on her knee and stand up. I daringly change the subject back to the previous without the use of words. I near my face to hers and our lips meet. There are no objections from her. I keep it short but sweet.

"Sorry," I apologize without actually meaning it. I'm not sorry, I am grateful. I am appreciative of the fact that she hadn't rejected my advance, but gentlemanly enough to ask for forgiveness anyway. She smiles at me.

"No you're not, but it's okay." I leave our conversation with that kiss. I go to my room. I don't want to overdo it too quickly. Everything seems so perfect, too good to be true.

His vehicle drives quickly down the road near the interstate. The Sergeant Major is on the warpath and ready for anything. He drives his own personal truck, a pickup, toward the bunker. He slides on the grass as he slams on the breaks and jumps out. He doesn't bother to shut his door. He bolts for the entrance and goes to the lift within. The elevator sinks to the compound secretly hidden below.

He passes the Private at the desk. He stands and sends a formal greeting. The Sergeant Major ignores him with a wave of an arm implying, "I don't give a rat's ass." He storms down the hallway to the General's office and barges in.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing, John," he yells as soon as the door opens. The General looks up from his reading.

"What are you talking about, Gary?" he asks.

"You know damn good and well what I'm talking about! When did you think you were going to let them go? You know _he_ won't allow this."

"When the baby's ready," the General is reading again and answers calmly. The Sergeant Major reaches into his waistband and pulls out a 9mm pistol. He aims it at the General's head.

****

_Joshua, something's wrong,_ her voice invades his mind as he lies on his bed in a room nearby. He perks up and slowly walks toward the door. He gently eases the door open. A shot suddenly rings out from down the hall. Joshua jumps. _Josh!_ Brielle invades his mind once again.

_Hold on to Ben and stay in your room, Brielle,_ he answers her with a thought.

_Please be careful,_ she replies silently.

He slips out of the room and into the hallway. More shots sound throughout the compound as soldiers go on alert and respond to the first. Shouting comes from further down the hall. More gunfire echoes within the tight walls and then silence.

_Come out and play, Joshua!_ The mental voice isn't Brielle's. He recognizes it after a moment. _Yeah, it's the Sergeant Major. You're not the only ones with secrets you know,_ his telepathic message is sinister and in a deep, dark tone. Joshua looks down the hallway and sees him standing there. His eyes are as black as coal. Josh doesn't get a chance to strike first. He had the element of surprise working against him. The mental blast of supernatural force hits him in the shoulder and sends his body flipping. He stumbles against the wall as he tries to regain his balance. Another blast hits the side of his head and he falls to the ground.

The door to Brielle's room swings open, the hard metal collides with the Sergeant Major's face. Blood begins to gush from his nose, but it doesn't slow him down. Brielle isn't strong enough to call upon the power she needs to defend herself, not alone. He hits her hard, both physically and mentally, first a blast to the chest pinning her against the wall and then a punch to the side of her head with his fist. She falls to the ground and blacks out immediately.

He steps into the room and finds what he'd come for in the first place, the baby. He looks down at the child swaddled in a tight little package of blankets in a bassinette. He is stirring, but not crying. The only thing poking out is his tiny face. The Sergeant Major reaches in to retrieve his prize.

As his hand nears, a shot rings out. Blood spatters the wall as the bullet enters and invades the skull. His eyes become empty and dead as his corpse falls to the floor. The General lowers the pistol. The side of his head is bloody and torn. His ear is tattered and barely hangs on. He slumps to the ground next to Brielle as his knees buckle. He is exhausted and relieved at the same time. He touches her side gently.

"Brielle, wake up," he shakes her. Joshua comes into the room quickly from the hallway. He looks toward the bassinette, Ben is fine. He helps the General to his feet and gets Brielle up as well. She immediately panics and asks about the baby.

"Benjamin is fine," Joshua calms her down.

"You have to get out of her, Josh." The General speaks quietly, his hands are shaky and his face is beginning to turn a pasty gray. "Take the baby and Brielle and get out of here. They will be coming soon."

"They, who's they, Sir?" Joshua asks for answers.

"The Society, they're coming. They sent Gary to get the baby. They will not stop until they have you're your personal belongings, including money and cards are in my office. Please...go...now." He slumps back to the ground and falls sideways. The blood pours from his wounded head and pools around it. His last exhale flows out of his body.

"Brielle, get Ben, let's go," Joshua speaks with urgency. She gently scoops the baby into her arms and throws some of the necessities into a nearby blanket. Josh steps in to assist and ties the corners of the sheet together tightly. "Let's go." He leads the way out of the room to the General's office. They quickly get their things, go up the lift, and out into the field above. They run to the Sergeant Major's truck and jump in. Josh drives to the gate and off the Army post to the interstate. They head east toward Kansas City. The sun is beginning to set and glares brightly to their front.

Chapter 21

Past Consequences

Brielle swaddles the baby in her arms. Her body is achy, but seems to be fine. Benjamin sleeps quietly.

"Josh, could you stop at a store? We need an atlas, car seat, and some provisions." She says to him quietly as to not disturb her infant. He nods and they stop within the hour. They get everything they need and get back into the truck after Joshua unpacks, assembles, and installs the car seat. Brielle gently places Ben inside. They get back onto the interstate.

"You know, we are going to have to get rid of this pickup sometime soon?" He tells her.

"How long do you think it'll be before they notice the compound?"

"It's hard to say. It could be a couple of days. I'm not very familiar with how involved the Sergeant Major was with operations on the installation. If not much, it could be a week. I honestly can't say for sure though. I just think it better safe than sorry and the sooner the better as well." He bounces his mesmerizingly brown eyes between the road and her face, she notices. "Where are we going anyway?" She looks down at the atlas fully open exposing a map of the United States. Her eyes wander and then something from _Self Convictions_ sparks an idea.

"I think we should go to Michigan." There is a bit of excitement in her voice.

"Michigan, why Michigan?" he asks confused.

"My father was from Michigan. There has to be family there or something. I don't know. My great-grandparents farm seems like a good place to start. It's been so many years. If you've got any better ideas, now's the time," she looks over at him.

"No, my parents were all I had. I don't know anything about Donovan's family, not that I'd trust them anyway."

"It's settled then," excitement and worry it her at the same time. She has no idea what to expect, but it's worth a shot.

They obtain a used car in the Kansas City area before leaving Kansas. After driving for two days, they finally cross over the border into Michigan. It's only a couple more hours before they come to the farm's driveway. Joshua takes the turn onto the road. They notice an old yellow garage, a large tattered red barn, and an empty wire silo as they approach. The roof of the house peeks over the thick lilac bushes to the right. Josh pulls the car behind the garage which blocks the view to the house's back door.

"Wait here, Brielle," he gets out and holds a hand out to her, a further insistence that she wait. He rounds the garage cautiously and walks toward the house. He watches the windows facing him for shadows or faces. The lawn is overgrown. The yellow paint that once matched the garage's tint is patchy and faded. He steps onto a natural rock patio square located behind the house. Weeds and dandelions poke out between the cracks. His foot scraps against a cottony bloom. The seeds float up into the air effortlessly. He quickly exhales through his nose as one nears it. The little seed sails away as quickly as it had approached. Joshua's attention goes to the back door. There is a rusty screen door. The interior entry is closed. He reaches for the handle on the screen and slowly opens it. It creaks on its hinges. Suddenly the interior door flies inward. Everything happens so quickly he doesn't know how to react. The short, heavy set, silver-haired woman wraps her arms around him.

"You're finally here! I've been waiting for so long!" Her words are muffled against his clothing. He holds his own hands out at his sides. He is confused and has no idea what's going on. She backs away. "I'm so sorry. I'm Billie."

"Um...okay," Joshua is trying to gather his thoughts properly. "Who are you and how did you know we were coming?"

"I'm Darla Hudson's sister, Brielle's great-grandmother. I came to live here when she moved down to Texas. She didn't want to be here anymore. Too many memories she said." Josh notices the deep wrinkles on her pale, weathered face. She is still a good looking woman for her age. "To answer your other question, I have a certain talent regarding events of the future. I've seen that you've got some talents of your own?" He is taken aback by the comment.

"Josh, what's going on?" Brielle interrupts the conversation as she approaches from the right of Joshua and is quickly barraged by her great-aunt. The look on her face exposes the fact that she's just as confused as Josh was. Brielle's empathy takes over and she quickly realizes the genuine feeling of excitement and love she feels from her aunt's emotions. She settles in to the idea and hugs her back tightly.

"I'll let you two catch up," Joshua dismisses himself to get a sleeping Benjamin and a few other things from the car.

"Let me take a look at you," Billie says as she holds both of Brielle's hands and assesses the girl from foot to head. "You are a skinny thing, so beautiful though. You look nothing like your father or grandmother."

"I've heard," Brielle replies awkwardly. "Um...how is it that you knew we were coming?" She hadn't heard the earlier conversation.

"Like I told your guy, I'm a bit of a fortune teller, well, a future teller actually. I have a lot of dreams and I see things." Brielle notices how Billie is dressed. She wears black slacks and a flowery, loose fitting blouse. A large turquoise necklace dangles from a gold chain around her neck and she has numerous rings on her fingers. She is a short, stocky woman. Her smile is perfect and bright. The crow's feet and laugh lines cut deep into her skin. Her hair is gray, but her eyes are a deep brown like most of the Hudson clan. Brielle is the exception. "Well, dear, no need to stand out here all day. I've prepared something for dinner. You all must be famished from all that driving." She drops one of Brielle's hands and leads her inside by the other. Joshua approaches with a couple bags and a car seat in hand. Brielle motions for him to follow and, when he gets close enough, relieves him of one of the bags. They go into the house.

The smell of warm, freshly baked bread hits their nostrils first. As they leave the entryway and enter into the kitchen, they notice the spread of food laid out perfectly on the table. Their mouths begin to water. They haven't had home cooking in so long they don't remember the last time. Fried chicken, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, sweet rolls, and a couple other items steam on the table. Brielle looks at Billie dumbfounded.

"I told you, dear, I have a gift," she replies matter-of-factly.

"I wish I had mine perfected like you do," Brielle responds.

"Oh, honey, don't worry, that comes with time. It'll happen before you know it. And with your talents, they are gonna have a hard time keeping you under control." They sit down at the table. Benjamin sleeps soundly in his car seat for the moment.

"You mean the Society? How is it that you haven't been inducted?" Brielle inquires as the food begins to make its way around the table.

"I was, a long time ago. They don't have any use for me and they bored me to tears. I just pretended my power didn't work anymore. I acted like it was so weak that I couldn't decipher the dreams. They have bigger things to worry about than an old gypsy fortune teller anyway." Billie takes a rather large scoop of mashed potatoes and then dollops a slab of butter on top. The margarine immediately melts and forms a pool atop the white mountain of starchy goodness. "I did the carnival thing for a little while. A girl's got to make a living somehow. Then one day I get a call from your grandmother asking if I'd take care of the farm for her. No chores or anything, basically the garden and the house." Josh and Brielle are eating while they listen to the tale. The food is wonderful. "Your grandfather had been gone for a few years and she decided to go to Texas with that Daniel. We all know how that ended." A mist forms over her eyes for a second and she quickly blinks it away. "Anyway, I've just been here, enjoying the peaceful farm life. I found out that you guys were coming about a week ago. I was so excited. It gets boring here all by oneself day in and day out."

"Aren't you worried?" Joshua stops eating for a moment. "What if they come after us?"

"Oh, dear, they will be." Her words send a shock to both of their ears. "Everything will be fine. I see a long and beautiful future for you two." She looks at Brielle and back to Josh. Brielle blushes. Their nerves calm. "You are welcome to stay for as long as you want. As they say, 'mi casa es su casa." She lets out a hardy laugh. "It'll be nice to have someone else around."

"It'll be nice to have family around." Brielle adds to the conversation. "Everyone else is gone." Her eyes begin to tear up. Billie rises from her chair and goes to Brie. Joshua's hand pats her knee beneath the table. Her aunt hugs her.

"I know, dear, you don't have to worry about that anymore. You have too guys who care about you very much." She pulls away and uses her thumb as a tissue under Brielle's eyes. "Now, no more tears. We've got good food, family, and a lot to be thankful for." She goes to the telephone hanging on wall next to the refrigerator behind Josh and picks up the cordless handset. She places it on the table next to his plate. "That'll be for you," she says as she starts clearing the dishes away. Joshua looks at Brielle. She shrugs her shoulders and helps with the table. Billie turns on the water and begins washing. "I hope you two don't mind sleeping in the same bed? I took the liberty of making up my two spare rooms. One's a nursery and the other is yours."

"Um...that'll be fine," Brielle answers as she retrieves some more dishes for the washing.

"Honey, you don't have to help. There's a blanket in the living room just around the corner for you to change the little guy." Benjamin starts to whine softly as he stirs in his seat. Brielle gets him and goes to the living room as per her aunt's instructions. The telephone begins to ring. Joshua just looks at it on the table. "They already know you're here, dear. You might as well just answer it." He looks over at her dumbfounded. He picks up the phone and pushes the talk button.

"Hello?" Joshua begins the conversation.

"SSG Pruitt?" the voice on the other end asks.

"Yes."

"SSG Pruitt, this is General Smith, we need to talk." Brielle returns from the living room and stands in the entryway with Ben in her arms. She is nonverbally inquiring about the telephone call. Billie continues to wash dishes and put the leftovers into their proper containers. Joshua gets up and goes into the hall behind him. There is a door, the bathroom, he goes in.

"Go ahead, Sir." He closes the door most of the way behind him and sits on the closed toilet.

"It seems we've had an incident in the compound at Fort Riley. I know you are aware. I am also certain that you are aware of the fact that you are currently absent without leave."

"Sir, I'm sorry to interrupt, but the Sergeant Major tried to kill us. What were we supposed to do?"

"SSG Pruitt, the Sergeant Major was defective. He was acting on orders of someone else. We've taken care of the situation, but it still doesn't excuse the fact that you are A.W.O.L." Joshua is speechless. The General is right. "I'm willing to overlook that fact as well, but I'll need you to do something for me. If you do, I'll make sure that you are forgiven of everything. I will personally ensure you are discharged honorably with no further obligations to the United States Army." Josh ponders the facts, knowing he really has no other choice.

"What do you need me to do, Sir?"

"Who's on the phone, Billie?" Brielle stands next to her as she finishes up with the dishes. Ben lies calmly in his mother's arms.

"It's the Army, dear, they need Josh's help." Brielle is put off by the statement.

"They tried to kill us, now they want his help?" Her voice is elevated in tone, close to yelling. Her aunt looks into her eyes and places a sudsy hand on her forearm.

"The man that tried to kill you wasn't the entire Army, dear. You should know by now that people act on their own accord. Joshua will be fine. Trust me." She goes back to rinsing out the sink. "After all, who's the fortune teller here?" She giggles a little.

Brielle places Benjamin on a blanket within viewing from the kitchen. He looks around peacefully. Josh reenters the room with the telephone in his hand.

"I have to go in the morning," he announces the fact bluntly.

"I know," Brielle answers as she stares at the empty table.

"My hands are pretty much tied. If I don't do it, they'll put me in jail for being A.W.O.L. I could fight it, but we don't need to be running for the rest of our lives." He places a hand on Brielle's shoulder.

"You made the right decision, dear," Billie adds. "Don't worry about Brielle and Benjamin, there's plenty to do around here. They'll be fine with me."

"Yeah," Josh says, he knows they will be. She's predicted everything else, how could she be wrong about this? "I'm really tired. The drive has me drained. I'm going to go to bed if that's alright?"

"Do whatever you need to, dear, like I said earlier, 'mi casa es su casa." She gives him a quick hug. "Go passed the bathroom to the right and up the stairs. My bedroom is to the right, Benjamin's nursery is straight ahead, and your room is to the left."

"Thank you," Joshua says to the little old lady. He dismisses himself to bed. He doesn't know what to say to Brielle right now. He knows she's scared and he doesn't want to leave them, but he has no choice.

"Are you sure he'll be okay?" Brielle asks her aunt.

"Honey, trust me, you have one hell of a man there. He'll be fine." Billie says as she sips some hot tea from a coffee cup.

The next morning, Joshua slips out of the bed. He gives Brielle a light kiss on the forehead and looks in on Ben for a moment before going downstairs and quietly leaving the house. He walks down the driveway to the prearranged meeting place, the end of the road. A hazy fog looms in the air. The sun hasn't peeked over the horizon yet, but it is just beginning to illuminate the sky. It's reminds Joshua of an early morning fishing trip with his father. "You've got to get there early if you want to catch the big ones," his father used to say. A shiny, black pickup truck with an extended cab waits for him. The heat and smoke from the exhaust pipe puffs into the haze. He gets in and they drive away.

****

Brielle awakens to the sounds of an upset baby boy. She goes to the room and gathers him up. She looks around the room and realizes how beautifully Aunt Billie has decorated it. She wasn't able to see last night when she put Ben to bed. The walls are a sky blue. Little pictures of Peter Rabbit are scattered on them. The bedding in the crib has a Peter Rabbit theme as well, the colors delicate and calming. She coddles her son and descends the stairwell carefully.

****

"Where are we going?" Joshua is the first to break the silence.

"We're meeting a couple of hours from here. Does it really matter, SSG Pruitt? We have a job to do and we're going to do it." The lieutenant sitting next to him is young, face chiseled from a lack of body fat.

"Why'd they send you then, Sir?"

"SSG Pruitt, I am a member of the United States Army Special Forces. We are under the General's command and he has a mission for us. I don't question him, you shouldn't either." Josh realizes the extent of the mission. Considering the fact that they've activated the SF to conduct it says a lot.

"I was just curious is all," he looks out the window and observes the landscape as it flies by.

"The less we know the better. I'd appreciate no more questions." The Lieutenant turns on the radio. Country music resonates from the speakers. Joshua tries to drone it out and loses himself in thought until his eyes close with his head resting against the window.

****

"Aunt Billie, do you mind keeping an eye on Ben while I go for a walk?" Benjamin is asleep again in my arms.

"Sure, dear, the fresh air will do you some good. You've been cooped up for so long." She takes the swaddled infant in her arms and goes into the living room. She sits in a plush recliner and begins to rock, turning on the television.

I slip on my shoes and walk out the back door. A fresh scent of lilac quickly grabs my senses. It is a refreshing aroma. I wander over to one of the nearest bushes and touch one of the large bunches of blossoms. I bury my nose to it and inhale deeply. I wish I could bathe in that fragrance. I let the flower go and walk toward the garage. I notice the barn to my right and remember what I'd read from my father's book. I decide to explore a little.

As I near the barn, I see a tail whisking under a pile of wood to my left. It makes me jump a little, but I quickly realize it's a cat. I recall the winter time here in the story he told and try to visualize it. I reach for the door and go to push it open. It seems to be stuck. I push hard against it with my shoulder and the rusty hinges break free. I nearly fall inside. I look in, darkness. Tiny beams of light from the exterior shine in from small holes in the wood. It's enough to make it possible to see inside. I go in.

Six empty stalls for milking line the left side. Old tools hang from the walls. A cinder block sits quietly near the bottom of some stairs. I look at it more closely. _What an odd place for a cinder block,_ I tell myself. There is a slight reddish stain on the block. I remember another part of his story. I look up the stairs, they're steep and narrow. They look rickety, but I still want to go up. I take the first step and test it with my foot. It seems sturdy enough. I ascend slowly and carefully, testing each step before putting my foot on it. I get to the top and push on the hinged door above. It flops to the right and hits the floor above with a smack. Dust flies everywhere. I start to sneeze. The dust settles as I step onto the second floor. The haymow is empty. Beams of sunlight stream in like tiny spotlights on a wooden stage. A couple of rope swings hang from the ceiling. They are still and located on either end of the barn's interior. I picture him in my mind's eye, my father. That sad incident with the kittens looms in my mind. I tear up and just stand there for a moment.

****

"We're here," the Lieutenant announces. I awaken groggily and look around. The town around us is small. We're driving down a main street. The town square portion of the town's road is lined artistically in red brick.

"Where are we?" I ask.

"I already told you no questions." He says smartly, "the General will fill us in on the details when we arrive." I look back out my window. People like this guy really piss me off. I'm trying to maintain control. I just have to do this and then things can go back to normal. Things haven't been normal in a long time. We pull up to a building located just on the other side of the town. It's a VFW, interesting meeting place. He turns the pickup off and we get out. We go inside and I am immediately greeted by an outstretched hand. I notice the stars on his beret right away.

"SSG Pruitt, it's nice to meet you."

"You too, Sir, thank you," the General looks like he's been pushing paperwork for quite some time now. He's a little on the chunky side. His hair is full and gray.

"Follow me. I've got the team assembled in a room over here. I'll brief you all there." He leads the way as he talks. They enter a room with a long table and metal folding chairs. There are several Army men around it. All of them are wearing uniforms. There is a lone projector in the middle of the table. "Have a seat," he says. I feel very out of place and uncomfortable. The other Special Forces members are staring me down and I try to ignore them. I don't feel qualified to be among them. I'm just an average Infantry Staff Sergeant in the Army. These guys have done so much more than I have. I sit down and look at the General as he begins to speak.

"Men, I have you all here today because there is a high value target in this town that needs to be apprehended. He is a Society leader, a conspirator, and the man who has caused some of our men to be defective."

"Sir," Joshua raises his hand as he speaks, "I don't understand what this has to do with me."

"SSG Pruitt, the Sergeant Major was acting under this man's orders when he tried to kill you at Fort Riley. You have something he wants. I think you know what I'm talking about?"

"Yes, Sir," Josh understands what the man wants.

"He will not stop until he gets what he wants. We are going to storm his compound tonight. All of the people there are very dangerous. Shoot on sight, but we need this guy alive. He needs to be interrogated. The Society must be stopped and he's the key to controlling them. Do you understand?" All of the men respond almost at the same time with a _hooah_ as most people in the Army do. "Now, here's the layout of the compound." An aerial image comes up on the wall from the projector. "Lieutenant, I need you to brief your men. I need to speak with SSG Pruitt in private."

"Yes, Sir," the Lieutenant stands and approaches the image on the wall. The General and Joshua leave the room.

"SSG Pruitt, I need your talents to ensure this mission is a success. He will stop at nothing to get that baby. Do you understand me?" His eyes are serious.

"Yes I do, Sir," Josh replies.

"There is a uniform for you on that table," he points across the room. "I need you to be a soldier one more time."

"Understood, Sir," Joshua dismisses himself and grabs the uniform from the table. He goes to the restroom to change.

****

Brielle walks along a deeply worn path beyond the yard and behind the lilac bushes. Large tractor tires have marked the trail for years and will for many more. She remembers the story about her father sneaking up on her great-grandfather and seeing him freak out on the cattle. The fencing is broken, barbed-wire fallen and hanging from posts, and the cattle are gone. There are worn spots where the haystacks used to be. After so many years of sitting, round patches remain. There are still skeletons of cars sprinkled about the back acreage. They are empty shells. Brielle notices a path through the lilacs and wander through. She pushes the branches off to the sides as she makes her way in. With the bushes to her back, she sees rows and rows of raspberry bushes. She walks along their edge, plucking a berry here and there. She enjoys the chalky sweet morsels. The sun is still bright, but falling in the horizon. She continues to walk. Strawberry bunches sprout up near the end of the raspberry rows. She plucks the cleanest one she can find. She notices cucumbers and other leafy green tops sitting above the earth a short distance away. A lonely bird sings from a bush to her right. She sees another pathway into the bush, she goes in. The path comes out where she'd begun, back in the yard. She's beside the house, opposite the side of the garage. It's the living room side. Aunt Billie stands in the window with Benjamin in her arms. She is holding him up and maneuvering his little hand to wave. Brie smiles up at them, goes back behind the house, and inside.

****

The men gather in a thick wooded patch beside the compound. The moon is stifled by a thin covering of clouds. The General isn't with the men. He'd said _he's too old for this shit_. The SF members adjust the earpieces in their ears and test them quietly. The plan is set and will begin in moments. The first two members of the team leave the wood line together. The others follow and skirt the edge toward the back of the house. Joshua's nerves are explosive. They don't exactly know what they are about to encounter. The Army only knows that this man is an offspring to a couple they'd used in World War I. They don't have any intelligence as to what the man is capable of. His parents were telekinetically inclined, both of them. Josh is ready for anything. He follows to the door. All of the men have weapons except for him, he doesn't need a weapon.

They all hit the home at the same time. They kick in doors and begin to clear the house. It is pitch-black inside. Joshua stumbles a bit on entry. It takes a moment for his eyes to fully adjust. The house is modest in size. _Six men seems a few too many to storm a home like this,_ he thinks. He stays near the door for a minute. He doesn't want to get in the way of the SF team. He hears them announcing _clear_ over the earpiece as they enter each of the rooms. _Upstairs is clear too,_ he hears another announce. _The house is empty,_ another says. They continue looking around. There is nobody in the home. The Lieutenant takes out his cellular phone and begins to dial the General.

"Something's not right," Joshua interrupts, "I can feel it." He has an uneasy feeling in his gut. He looks up and sees the Lieutenant's eyes wide and staring at the yard to the front of the house. Josh quickly turns on his heel to see. A middle-aged man stands in the middle of the yard. A large, metal plow hovers in front of him slightly above his head.

"Can I help you gentlemen find something?" he yells loudly at the men. Before they can take aim with their weapons, the plow is hurled in their direction. Joshua runs into the next room and jumps onto the floor. His head knocks into a piece of furniture and begins to ache. The plow hits against the house with such force that it crashes through the framing of the doorway and slams into the SF team like a bowling ball into pins. Their bodies are instantaneously mutilated by the sharp metal tines and framework of the machinery. Pieces of flesh and clothing stick to the equipment. Extremities are detached and scattered. The moaning of a couple who didn't perish immediately only lasts a few seconds before tapering off. Josh turns toward the scene. Chunks of the house bury a few of the men. Bits of shattered wood decorate the floor. The floor above begins to groan from the loss of support below. Joshua realizes the urgency for escape. He searches for a nearby window and opens it. He leaps through the screen and onto the lawn below. The cracking of wood and support beams follows his landing. He gathers himself, gets to his feet, and runs into the wood line just a few feet away. He hides behind a tree for protection from the house's demolition. The noise is like thunder cracking repeatedly right next to an ear as the home falls to the ground. The bodies are buried beneath the rubble.

Joshua peeks from around the protection of the tree. He searches the yard as the dust cloud settles. There is nobody there. The man is gone. He walks slowly along the edge of the woods. Josh is careful not to step on dry branches or leaves. He remembers things the Army had taught him in all his training. He walks toward the rendezvous point where the team was supposed to reassemble after mission completion. He steps deeper into the woods. A thick branch hits him in the back of the head. Blood begins to seep from the wound as he falls to the ground. He rolls onto his back to face his attacker.

"What do you want? What are you doing here?" The man is yelling at Joshua. He doesn't answer. "I know you. You're the boyfriend." Josh is surprised to see the man knows what he looks like. "Where's the baby?" He yells the question at him. Anger quickly overcomes Josh. The thought of this man getting his hands on the innocent infant infuriates him. His head begins to pound. He doesn't wait for any further conversation. His eyes fill with their bright illumination. A branch from a tree overhead dangles from strands. He uses his power to grab onto it and he pulls. The branch falls. Joshua rolls to out of the way as it impales the man at his shoulder blades. It keeps his body propped for a moment as blood drips from his mouth onto the leafy ground. It topples over as his legs relax. Joshua regains his composure and stands up. He walks back to the VFW to meet the General.

"Sir, I couldn't get him. He attacked and killed every one of them. I had to kill him or he would've killed me." Joshua explains quickly. The General hangs his head in disappointment.

"You do know what this means right?"

"No, Sir," Josh is confused.

"We're still going to need your help. You were supposed to take him alive. What a mess. Not like I haven't had messes to clean up before I guess." He shakes his head back and forth.

"Sir...I was supposed to receive an honorable discharge after this, you said." Joshua is getting angry.

"SSG Pruitt, you had a mission and it wasn't completed successfully. I will give the honorable discharge, but I will still need you at times in the future. If you can't comply, there's always the United States Disciplinary Barracks in Leavenworth." Josh knows the General has him and he has no other choice but to agree.

****

The sun rises and Benjamin wakes up early as usual. It's been a few days since Joshua left, but Billie reassures me time and time again that he's okay.

"Let me take him from you, dear," Billie says as she scoops Ben from me. She balances his bottle with the opposite hand. "I need you to go out into the garage and grab something for me if you don't mind." She tells me what she needs. I slip on my shoes, and go outside. As I get near the garage, I hear a vehicle speed away at the end of the driveway. I look down the road to see a black pickup truck speeding away. That's all I see. I go to turn the knob of the garage door.

"Hello, Brielle," a man's voice behind me. My heart jumps. I recognize the voice. I turn to him. Josh is standing there. I embrace him tightly and he kisses my forehead. I reach for the back of his head. I want an actual kiss! He moans in pain.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I say to him. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"It's nothing. I'm fine. And it's a long story for later," he answers. He places a hand behind my head and kisses me deeply. I look over toward the house for a moment. Aunt Billie and Ben are standing in the window, she is making him wave again. I giggle beneath the kiss and when he looks at me questioningly, I point to them and he laughs as well.

"I missed you," I say to him.

"I missed you too," he says back. "I need a shower. Let's go inside." He grabs my hand and leads me to the door.

Chapter 22

Adieu

So, that's where we are so far in the story. I'm continuing in my father's footsteps. The Army has given me permission to publish the stories so the Society is forced to go deeper into hiding. They haven't called for Josh to help yet and I'm hoping to avoid that with the books.

Joshua and I plan to get married this summer and Benjamin is growing quickly. We have our normal life for now, living in a small town in Michigan. It shall remain nameless for a reason.

I have something now that I haven't been allowed to have throughout most of my life. I have family and I have love.

I just have one final note. Don't forget the fact that we are out there. You bump into us on the street and don't realize it. We hear your thoughts and sometimes invade your minds. All we really want though is to go unnoticed and to be normal.

About the Author

R.J. Hamilton was born and raised in the small town of Detroit Lakes, Minnesota.

After high school, R.J. joined the United States Army where he has done 2 tours in Bosnia and 2 tours in Iraq and had served his country for 12 years. He was stationed in Germany for a total of 5 years which enabled him to see many things that most people don't in a lifetime. His ventures in Europe, as a whole, and trips to the Middle East, are picturesque reflections in his stories. Combined with the many real-life situations that the Army itself has put him in, they are an added realism to his works.

He is now out of the military and resides in Topeka, KS. Mr. Hamilton is currently attending Washburn University as an English Writing Major. He is a member of a couple different writing groups, the Write Stuff & the Kansas Authors Club.

