wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe I
wouldn’t be alone as I ventured into the world.
But I couldn’t. “I’m sorry, but I can’t trust a killer.”
“You’ve killed too!” he snapped, anger ratcheting
through my mind.
Cringing, I tried
to bring my hand up to rub my head, but was brought up short by the restraint. “Stop! That hurts!” I pleaded. The truth
of his statement reverberated in my mind. I was a killer too.
Did it matter? I
couldn’t remember the act, and the memory of heartbeats ceasing made me sick. I
may have killed, but at least right now I didn’t have the stomach for it.
Ignoring Jeremiah’s repeated attempts to talk to me, I kept my concentration on
the dirt. It was time to figure out how to use it to free myself. There were
key locks on the restraints, so I directed the line of dirt into it. Doing so
allowed me to feel the inner workings of the lock. It wouldn’t take much to unlock
the restraints, but I had to figure out the lay of the land before attempting
to get out.
I sent energy
through the floor—sensing the earth within the building materials—and
determined that my main adversaries were not in the immediate vicinity. My room
was still dark, and they had told me they’d be back the next day. Perhaps they
were either gone, or in their own quarters for the night. The Doctor and Boss
may be gone, but I was not here alone. There were people walking all around the
building. Although none were nearby.
“Don’t, Jason! Wait for us, please!” Jeremiah’s voice was tinged with desperation, and I ignored it as I continued
plotting a way out.
Of course all bets
were off once I started moving. They would see me on their cameras, and would
attempt to keep me here. The dirt I stocked near the bed now would have to
serve as my partner in my escape. And I would continue gathering it as I ran
through the building.
They carried guns.
I would stop them without killing them, and prove to Jeremiah that I am not a
killer. That I cannot be like him, no matter how much he wants me to be.
Keeping my concentration on the dirt slowly making its way into the cuff locks,
I absently wondered whether Jeremiah heard my silent declaration.
The killer’s voice
was still sounding in my head, but I made the conscious choice to ignore him.
Expending any extra energy on communication was not my priority. Escaping
before my captors decided to harm me in any way was.
“Please shut up,” I begged, my head
beginning to throb at the unwelcome intrusion.
Expecting him to
fight me, it was a pleasant surprise when the voice simply stopped talking.
Sending out a silent thank you, I pushed the dirt in the locks, forcing them to
turn. The soft click as it released was a welcome sound, but I was careful to
not move my hands.
The camera in the
corner was just visible in my peripheral vision, and I was careful to not pay
it any undue attention. It was necessary to keep it in view as I sent a thin
tendril of dirt up the wall toward it.
Catching a glimpse
of the slowly moving line of dirt, I was struck by how much it looked like a
line of ants marching up the wall. My mouth quirked in slight amusement at the
image. My little dirt ants doing my bidding.
Pushing my will into
the dirt, I let the line speed up, wanting nothing more than to get out of this
prison. The thin line approached the back of the camera, and I pushed the particles
together, hardening them so they could cut through the wires.
It took several
minutes of extreme concentration, but eventually the wire snapped.
I sat up in the
bed and rubbed my raw wrists. I eyed the door, cautiously sensing whether there
was someone outside or not.
Now came the fun
part.
EIGHTEEN
Jeremiah
There are a lot of
things in the world capable of making me angry, but far fewer that cause me
open concern. Jason’s refusal to communicate with me at one point would have
angered me. As things fell now, it only served as a cause of
wouldn’t be alone as I ventured into the world.
But I couldn’t. “I’m sorry, but I can’t trust a killer.”
“You’ve killed too!” he snapped, anger ratcheting
through my mind.
Cringing, I tried
to bring my hand up to rub my head, but was brought up short by the restraint. “Stop! That hurts!” I pleaded. The truth
of his statement reverberated in my mind. I was a killer too.
Did it matter? I
couldn’t remember the act, and the memory of heartbeats ceasing made me sick. I
may have killed, but at least right now I didn’t have the stomach for it.
Ignoring Jeremiah’s repeated attempts to talk to me, I kept my concentration on
the dirt. It was time to figure out how to use it to free myself. There were
key locks on the restraints, so I directed the line of dirt into it. Doing so
allowed me to feel the inner workings of the lock. It wouldn’t take much to unlock
the restraints, but I had to figure out the lay of the land before attempting
to get out.
I sent energy
through the floor—sensing the earth within the building materials—and
determined that my main adversaries were not in the immediate vicinity. My room
was still dark, and they had told me they’d be back the next day. Perhaps they
were either gone, or in their own quarters for the night. The Doctor and Boss
may be gone, but I was not here alone. There were people walking all around the
building. Although none were nearby.
“Don’t, Jason! Wait for us, please!” Jeremiah’s voice was tinged with desperation, and I ignored it as I continued
plotting a way out.
Of course all bets
were off once I started moving. They would see me on their cameras, and would
attempt to keep me here. The dirt I stocked near the bed now would have to
serve as my partner in my escape. And I would continue gathering it as I ran
through the building.
They carried guns.
I would stop them without killing them, and prove to Jeremiah that I am not a
killer. That I cannot be like him, no matter how much he wants me to be.
Keeping my concentration on the dirt slowly making its way into the cuff locks,
I absently wondered whether Jeremiah heard my silent declaration.
The killer’s voice
was still sounding in my head, but I made the conscious choice to ignore him.
Expending any extra energy on communication was not my priority. Escaping
before my captors decided to harm me in any way was.
“Please shut up,” I begged, my head
beginning to throb at the unwelcome intrusion.
Expecting him to
fight me, it was a pleasant surprise when the voice simply stopped talking.
Sending out a silent thank you, I pushed the dirt in the locks, forcing them to
turn. The soft click as it released was a welcome sound, but I was careful to
not move my hands.
The camera in the
corner was just visible in my peripheral vision, and I was careful to not pay
it any undue attention. It was necessary to keep it in view as I sent a thin
tendril of dirt up the wall toward it.
Catching a glimpse
of the slowly moving line of dirt, I was struck by how much it looked like a
line of ants marching up the wall. My mouth quirked in slight amusement at the
image. My little dirt ants doing my bidding.
Pushing my will into
the dirt, I let the line speed up, wanting nothing more than to get out of this
prison. The thin line approached the back of the camera, and I pushed the particles
together, hardening them so they could cut through the wires.
It took several
minutes of extreme concentration, but eventually the wire snapped.
I sat up in the
bed and rubbed my raw wrists. I eyed the door, cautiously sensing whether there
was someone outside or not.
Now came the fun
part.
EIGHTEEN
Jeremiah
There are a lot of
things in the world capable of making me angry, but far fewer that cause me
open concern. Jason’s refusal to communicate with me at one point would have
angered me. As things fell now, it only served as a cause of
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