[Ganzfield 2] Adversary by Kate Kaynak Page B

his eerie understanding of how the fire was going to move and how to keep themselves and their teams safe.”
    “So the daughters-in-law were all G-positives?”
    “That, or carriers. Not all of the grandsons had the gift with fire that Old Sean and his sons did. But enough of them did that now we figure Nan was a remote viewer who was able to locate G-positives, even though she didn’t know what she was doing or how she was doing it.
    “We believe she wanted her sons to find nice girls and settle down, and her unconscious mind did all the work. Between finding G-positives remotely and being a good enough judge of character, she unconsciously tracked solid matches for her sons. Then she did the same for her sixteen grandchildren when they were old enough.”
    Wow. I remembered reading something about how physical attraction was based on an unconscious recognition that the other person was genetically compatible. It looked as though Gram McFee had been breeding her own family of G-positives for generations. Perhaps it hadn’t even started with her. The family lore of “second-sight” might be part of a long chain of remote viewers who’d unknowing selected people with the same genetic trait.
    “By this point, her ability to match-make through her dreams had been accepted by the family. It was almost expected that, when a grandson or granddaughter was ready to settle down, he or she would talk to Gram. Gram would dream on it for a few weeks then say where to find the right person.”
    “So, when your husband brought you to meet her—”
    Viv smiled at the reminiscence. “Her first words were, ‘Ah, Andrew. You found her after all.’” I heard the Irish lilt in the old lady’s voice in Viv’s memory. The wispy tone still conveyed her joy, as well as a little touch of smug pride. Her rheumy blue eyes had sparkled with an I-told-you-so mixed in with her happiness.
    “So, you’re G-positive?” What was Viv’s ability? I didn’t know. Did she just not use dodecamine?
    “I’m a carrier, but both of my boys are sparks. My Andrew was, too. He passed away from a stroke three years ago last January.”
    An aching loneliness filled her at the thought of her late husband. However, she refused to let it stay and take hold. Instead, she pushed the feeling aside gruffly and wondered what she’d been talking about before she’d been side-tracked.
    “Meeting Nan for the first time,” I prompted.
    “Oh, right.” She didn’t notice I’d answered a question she hadn’t asked. “So, this whole big pack of sparks you see today was the work of an Irish lady and her second-sighted dreams. There are a few other types mixed in. We now have a couple of RVs and a healer; it looks like they got their mothers’ gifts. But the fire-love runs pretty strongly through the McFee family.”
    Ellen McFee came out of the bathroom, absently indicating as she passed that it was my turn for the shower. Shadows darkened the pale skin under her eyes and a flashback of Melanie taking a bullet in the shoulder haunted her thoughts.
    The overnight cold had thickened my shampoo and toothpaste into nearly unusable sludge. I tried to clean up as rapidly as possible; others were waiting to use the tiny bathroom. Once out, I grabbed a plate of scrambled eggs in the lodge and ate ravenously, realizing I hadn’t had a meal since our McBreakfast twenty-four hours ago. Now I was rested and fueled, and there was a lot that I needed to do.
    I filled another mug of coffee and carried it back to the clearing for Trevor. He was just waking as I returned, and he used the cup to warm his hands while he sipped. He’d slept the past night shelterless in a New England winter and he felt as cold as that sounded.
    I rummaged through my bag for my laptop and power cable, and then Trevor and I went to the lodge. While he took his turn with the shower, I started making a list.

    I stopped. Something about a list. Hannah had a list—a list of the dead from