Blindspots Read online

  "Good. You've done so well, Jake. The sledgehammer's gone. You can close the door, the door that's now just a blank silver door, no symbol on it. There's nothing left in there. Your problem is gone."

  And so is mine. Almost. Just a few more loose ends. Three more pieces of unfinished business.

  "When you wake, you'll be able to see everyone's faces. No more blindness, no more need for your tricks, or memory games. But there's one more thing, Jake. One more piece of unfinished business, without which you'll never be cured. Do you want to be cured?"

  "Yes, yes."

  "Good. Here it is. You have to do something for me, after you wake, after your nap. Will you promise to do as I say?"

  "Yes."

  "Good. When you wake, get up, put your coat on. Go downstairs to the garage and pick the first vehicle you see. A Jeep Cherokee. The keys will be in the ignition. Do you understand?"

  "Yes."

  "Very good. Get in and start driving."

  "Can I look for my family?"

  "Sure, Jake. Go wherever you like. But here's the catch – when you're approaching the bridge just outside of the institute, this is what I need you to do…"

  Alexa lowered her voice, speaking still to that secret part of him, the niche in his Ba, the place she alone knew how to reach. It had all been there in the Books of the Dead, if you read the passages properly, if you took them beyond their words, read into the secondary meanings. The Ba, depicted as a human-headed bird, was the soul, the part of a person that lives on after the body dies. It was that essence that lived on, and came back. The trick to doing it right was in the preparation…

  Jake sat completely still as she finished her instructions.

  "Do you understand, Jake?"

  "Yes."

  "I'm sorry, but it's the only way. Will you do as I ask?"

  "I will."

  "Thank you." Piece of cake. Just one more thing… "But before we leave, before I bring you out and before you can sleep off the medication, I want to take you back. Farther back. Deep into your past. Are you ready?"

  "Yes."

  "Good. I want you to peel away the years. See your life as a movie played in reverse. Go all the way back. Back… to the first time you saw the Daedalus Institute. Your arrival. The first time you came up the long winding road, the first time you saw those spires in the distance."

  Jake trembled, breathing slowly.

  "Are you there?"

  "Yes. We're driving…"

  "Who else is with you?"

  "A man, another volunteer."

  "His name?"

  "Nick DeWolfe. We met at Boston's airport and shared a cab here."

  Alexa smiled. "Ah… I know you now." She clapped her hands. "I remember you talking about destiny, how excited it all seemed that you had found each other. Let me ask, are you a man or a woman?"

  "A woman, of course."

  "Good. Just one more thing. Why are you coming here?"

  "Saw the advertisement. Figured I can earn some money while I'm out of work."

  "What a good idea."

  "Yes. But I'm scared."

  "Why?"

  "This place. It looks… creepy."

  Alexa smiled. "Yes, sometimes it does."

  "Okay," Alexa said. "I think I know enough. But just to be sure…"

  She leaned in close, right next to his ear, and whispered.

  "What's your name?"

  23.

  Nestor Simms slipped out of his room just moments after entering. He glanced up and down the corridor, and didn't see Jake. They had agreed to just get back to their rooms, wash up and meet again together in the lobby in a few minutes. Stay together, that's what Dr. Sterling had ordered.

  Fuck that.

  He had more important things to do. A promise to keep. Alexa was right. The others had it – the Scourge. And it was up to Nestor now; he was the one to deliver them, to save them. Gabriel Sterling wasn't to be trusted. He was one of the Scourge's minions, that much was clear. Despite his professed ignorance, he knew.

  Alexa alone had proven she could vanquish the Scourge. He owed her his life, and now he had to give back. Help those who were suffering, just as he had suffered, up until only hours ago.

  He slipped into the hall, nodding to a few other patients walking about, marveling to himself that he could see them, see their humanity, their faces in all their unchanging perfection. Every one different, memorable, perfect.

  He climbed.

  One flight. Two. Glancing out over the side as he rose, seeing the immense domed ceiling overhead, the sparkling crystal lights drifting stardust down to the lobby floor.

  On the top floor, he made a bee-line for the last door in the eastern corridor. It opened just before he reached it, and a large man, nearly bald, dressed in black, stood there as if expecting him.

  "Well?"

  "I need to see Alexa."

  The big man shook his head, and a circular snake tattoo contracted and expanded with the motion. "She's with a patient."

  "In there?" Nestor stood on his toes, trying to look over the man's shoulder.

  "No."

  "Can you get her? It's important."

  "You can tell me."

  "I only speak to her." Nestor was getting frustrated. This oaf was standing in the way of his mission.

  The man sighed. He pulled out a walkie-talkie phone from his back pocket. Pressed the button down. "Can you speak to Mr. Simms?"

  The speaker crackled. "Put him on."

  Nestor took the phone. Pressed the button and brought it to his mouth. He turned away from the guard and lowered his voice. "You’ll save the woman? Liberate her?"

  "Who?" came the sinewy voice, arching through the speaker. His spine tingled, and he recalled the feeling of her breath on his skin.

  "Monica. Mrs. Gilman."

  "You have her location?" Alexa asked.

  "You'll save her?"

  Silence, and he had the sudden fear that her next words would lash out at him in anger and impatience. "I told you I would cure her, Nestor. You know I keep my promises."

  He took a deep breath, a cleansing, cool breath. His eyes darted down the hall, to the opposite end, where another door waited, the other office. Sterling's office.

  "Then yes. I know where he's keeping her."

  24.

  Gabriel went down to the lobby in search of Nestor and Jake, and he hoped they had stayed in the common room after he had gone to check on Monica. Reaching the bottom, he paused and looked out the nearest window. There was a commotion outside – one of the Institute's Jeep Cherokees, revving its engine. Its rear wheels were caught up high in a snow bank, and it looked like it had fishtailed drastically.

  What the hell? He sprinted around a few nurses and patients, and ran to the door behind the lobby desk, the door leading to the garage.

  "Who's in that vehicle?"

  "Sorry," said the nurse standing there. Ursula. A thin smile. "One of the patients just ran out and stole it."

  He nearly throttled her. "Who, damn it?"

  Ursula gave him a weak smile. "A Mr. Jake Griffith."

  "Shit!" Gabriel opened the door and winced with a blast of frigid wind.

  "Sorry, Dr. Sterling," Ursula said. "Someone must have left the keys in one of the Jeeps. Or he hot-wired it."

  Gabriel ran back around her to grab his coat. His mind raced. What happened? Had someone gotten to Jake? Had--

  But as he ran into the lobby, he saw movement above him – two flights up. A black-clad man, Gregory Stoltz, rushing up the stairs. Moving fast, with purpose, to the top floor.

  Going to Alexa's office, or mine?

  He yelled back to the desk, where two of his orderlies stood at attention. "You two – go outside! Get Mr. Griffith back in here." Then he turned and bounded up the steps, three at a time.

  The stairs seemed impossibly tall, each step higher than the last. He paused for a half second on the third landing, his heart pounding, then burst into action again.
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br />   Finally, the top – he faced Alexa's door. Closed. One lamp overhead, providing dim, ghostly light. He turned, looked past four equally-spaced lights, and faced his own door. Closed, thank God.

  Please…

  It opened, and Critchwell and Stoltz emerged, dragging Monica Gilman out behind them. Critchwell saw Gabriel, let go of Monica, and moved to meet him.

  "Back away, Dr. Sterling."

  "Leave her alone. She's in my care."

  "Not anymore. We've determined that you neglected her treatment. Ms. Pearl will file a report, and your actions will be reviewed – along with the irregularities concerning Franklin Baynes's suspicious death, and Jake Griffith's escape…"

  Gabriel snapped. Lunged – just as he saw, in the corner of his eye, Monica raise her head, her eyes pleading.

  A huge fist came at his face.

  He dodged just enough to miss the full brunt of the punch, but still suffered a glancing blow to his temple. His vision darkened for a second, but then, finally giving vent to years of frustration, he clasped his hands together and swung upwards like he gripped a baseball bat He connected, knocking Critchwell's chin straight back. He heard a sound like a crack, and the big man went stumbling backwards.

  At the same moment, emboldened maybe by Gabriel's arrival, Monica grabbed Stoltz by the hair, twisted his head back, and then delivered a swift knee to his groin. When he backed up, doubled over, she kicked him in the face and knocked him on his side.

  Critchwell looked over, in shock as he rubbed his chin, and then Gabriel was on him again, slamming him into the wall, and then delivering a barrage of fists to the back of his head. One of them, finally, was enough to send Critchwell to the ground, unconscious.

  "Jesus," Monica said, suddenly at Gabriel's side, helping him up. "Look at us."

  "Couple of street fighters."

  In the middle of the hall, the elevator doors opened. They both turned. Taking one step out, Alexa Pearl paused, head cocked.

  "No chance for subtlety anymore," Gabriel whispered. "We need to run."

  25.

  He had to listen to the voice in his head. Had to obey her wishes. Jake had come this far. Taking the Jeep from the garage, driving out into the storm. It was rough going at first, but he finally found traction and got himself on the road.

  Find the bridge. And when you see it, speed up.

  Yes, that's what he had to do. That's what she wanted.

  Speed up, then veer to the right, and drive over the edge…

  But as he neared the bridge and the ravine, he saw something out of place. Out there in the blinding storm, someone was running alongside the Jeep. A woman without a coat, her short brown hair whipping around her face. Jake leaned forward and peered through the frosted glass. His chest tightened, and then he felt like someone had reached in and grasped his heart. Seeing Monica and Nestor's faces had caused a stunning, powerful reaction, but this was something else entirely. Even from just a glimpse, seeing this woman's face sent him reeling.

  He knew her, somehow, but… But there was more – they shared something deeper than mere familiarity. He started to brake, then suffered a crushing sense of dizziness.

  Drive to the bridge…

  Blinking, he gripped the wheel, pulled his eyes away from the woman, and found himself stepping on the gas and turning the wheel. To the bridge, came Alexa's voice, still echoing in his mind, but now with a hint of desperation.

  Jake turned his head. This other woman was closer now, struggling to reach him.

  He moved his foot to the brake.

  Drive… Alexa's voice rose in his mind for one last attempt. Drive… off… the edge…

  Jake stared at the woman, now right outside his door, desperately reaching for the handle and shouting something lost in the winds.

  The bridge…

  Caught in a moment of indecision, his body reacted. He stepped on the gas.

  #

  Kaitlin had followed Jake, at a distance, to his floor. Overwhelmed with her reaction, desperately needing to see him, to touch him and confirm that he was real and not just some dream, she was about to run to him when the door opened and the big bald man and the crazed-eyed nurse appeared in the doorway. They pulled Jake inside. Before the door closed, Kaitlin saw her – Alexa Pearl – standing in the shadows within the room. She leaned on her cane, and her head moved slightly from side to side, as those black glasses seemed to survey everything in her path.

  Kaitlin ducked her head back around the corner and dared not look, not yet. Not until she heard the door close.

  And then she waited. Against all her impulses, she held herself back, remembering Indra's advice to not give herself away. If it was just Alexa in there with Jake, she might have risked it, but not with those other two. She'd be dead meat. So she waited – for nearly forty-five minutes. When she had almost given up, and had been about to just go in and interrupt whatever they were doing and take her chances, Jake's door opened.

  Alexa left first, striding confidently away, then back up the stairs, followed by the others. Only the big bald man remained behind; he crossed his arms and waited by the door until, minutes later, Jake emerged. He looked glassy-eyed and exhausted, as if he hadn't slept in weeks. But he moved with a sleepwalker's sense of purpose, heading for the stairs.

  Kaitlin left her hiding place and followed at a distance, trying to appear unobtrusive, until he went into the garage, and the big bald man went back upstairs.

  Not good. Whatever they did to Jake, she had to stop it, warn him, help him somehow. Warning bells rang in her head – Indra's instructions to remain out of sight.

  Sorry. She looked out one of the lobby's leaded-pane windows and saw the Jeep tear out of the garage, turn into the circle, and then fishtail immediately, slamming into the snow bank. And then she was out, running through the door, into the whipping winds…

  #

  The Jeep fishtailed again, slid off the road and stuck this time, nose-first right into a deep drift.

  The edge… Alexa's voice still thrummed in his head, but now Jake saw that other woman, running up to the Jeep. Her face, so clear and brilliant. Are those tears? Is she weeping? Laughing?

  The door opened – and the wind almost slammed it closed. Jake added his strength when she pulled again, and then he was out. Standing in front of her, shivering along with her. Running toward them out of the storm came two orderlies in heavy coats.

  But right there, right in front of him… Whoever she was, she glanced back nervously as if she didn't want the others to see her. She brushed snow off her hair.

  And Jake couldn't help himself. He stepped right up to her, face to face. Their eyes searched each others'. Their hands touched.

  "What were you doing?" she asked meekly.

  "I… don't know. I think… I think I was trying to kill myself."

  The girl's eyes flickered, and she gripped his hands tighter, almost ripping his skin with her nails. "Don't you dare."

  "It's okay. You somehow broke the spell – or whatever was making me crazy." And Jake realized it was true. Alexa's voice was gone, his mind quiet and calm. "Seeing you, it just blasted through this other voice in my head."

  The girl leaned in close. "What's happening to us?"

  "We're freezing," he said as he suddenly hugged her close. And then he pulled his face back, studied hers, and then kissed her. Hard. She kissed back, threw her arms around his neck, squeezing. Pressed herself to him. Kissing with surprising ferocity.

  Finally, hearing footsteps crunching through the snow, they broke apart. Arm around her shivering shoulders, they stepped back as the orderlies approached.

  "Who are you?" Jake whispered quickly, his eyes still locked on hers as if they were stealing his vision, welding it to her skin.

  "I could tell you," she whispered, "but I don't think it means anything."

  "I'm--"

  "Jake Griffith, I know. I saw you on the news… briefly."

  Oh shit.

  "No," sh
e said wrapping herself around him, speaking into his ear. "Don't worry. I know… you couldn't have done anything too bad."

  "I didn't… at first." He swallowed hard, tried to pull away and show her his eyes, let her see he was serious. "But I had to escape."

  "To come here, I know. I understand."

  They ducked their heads as a snow drift fell from the roof, caught in the wind, and slammed down onto the orderlies. Temporarily blinded, they rubbed their eyes, backed away – and Jake pulled the girl with him as he rushed back towards the main door into the lobby.

  As they ran, more snow descended, another blast of the icy blizzard from the darkening morning sky.

  Inside, they skidded across the floor, into a group of other patients, then ducked through them and ran toward the stairs.

  "Down," the girl said, looking over her shoulder. "Maybe we can hide out."

  As they descended, half-slipping down the stairs and around the first bend, Jake shook his hair, freeing the snowflakes and trying to clear away the maelstrom of emotions. "I think I knew you'd be here. Please, who are you?"

  "I'm Kat. Well, Kaitlin Abrams. London punk band, Pinkeye," she added. "Every heard of 'em? Hit song, 'Baby, Baby, What's the Score'?"

  Jake grinned, shaking his head. "I promise I'll download it once we get out of here."

  "Don't bother. I don't get royalties anymore. So, now that we've found each other, what do we do?"

  "There's another guy waiting upstairs, and also that woman who whacked her husband – Monica – and we've met a doctor we can trust. We're trying to bust out of here soon, before the next storm. We--"

  "No," she said, backing up. "We have to wait. There's help coming. I've met someone else like us. He knows about the Six."

  "Six? So there are six of us?"

  "Yes. And my friend, Indra, he knows other things too. About this place. And he has…" She half-rolled her eyes. "Resources."

  Jake gripped her wrists. "What sort of resources?"

  "I-- I'm not sure. He told me to find somewhere he could get inside unnoticed. He's bringing help. I have a satellite phone with his number, and--"

  Just then they heard someone shout upstairs. Ursula's booming voice. "Where did they go?"