The First Prophet Page 26

  In fact, she felt incredibly useless.

  They wouldn’t let her help clean up after the meal, and since by then much of her energy and all of her anxiety had returned, Sarah found herself moving restlessly around the living room while they worked in the kitchen.

  The need to find Tucker was nearly overpowering now, and with it came the niggling awareness of something else that was…wrong. She didn’t know what it was, but somewhere, sometime, she had missed something she should have paid attention to. Information or an observation…something. Whatever it was, it seemed to be out of reach now; whenever she tried to concentrate on it, all she got was increasing uneasiness and the urge to look back over her shoulder.

  Watching. Somebody’s watching. But is it me, or Tucker? The uneasiness he felt about that went with him into his dreams…

  That was part of her apprehension, she knew. That skin-crawling sensation of being watched had been uppermost in Tucker’s consciousness just before his keepers had knocked him out once again, and even now his sleeping mind was giving him nightmares with that theme. Eyes watching him. Creatures watching him.

  Sarah wasn’t exactly caught up in the nightmares with Tucker; it was more like listening to the dim and distant sound of a television in the next room and being aware of what was going on there. She could push the faint sounds out of her conscious mind by concentrating on something else, but they were always there just under the surface, contributing to her uneasiness.

  “Sarah?”

  She turned to look at them as Brodie, Leigh, and Cait returned to the living room. “There isn’t much time.”

  “Why not?” Leigh asked quietly. “The trap is baited and ready for you; won’t they just wait for you to come?”

  “I…don’t know. I don’t think so. There’s a feeling of urgency.”

  “Maybe that’s just you,” Brodie suggested. “Your need to get to Mackenzie.”

  She shook her head. “No, this is something else. Somebody’s anxious, worried about time passing. I’m sure of it.”

  Leigh looked at her for a moment, then said, “Let’s sit down. Sarah, do you think you can sense where Tucker is being kept?”

  “If he was awake, I know I could. But he’s still asleep. Dreaming.”

  Leigh waited until they were all sitting down before suggesting, “Try anyway. Try to concentrate on his physical sensations rather than his emotions. You may be able to shut out his dreams that way.”

  Sarah was hesitant, wary of his nightmares, but she closed her eyes and tentatively reached out toward Tucker. Instantly, gooseflesh rose sharply along her arms and she shivered in a wave of coldness. It was very cold here, and very damp; there was water dripping somewhere. And another sound, very faint. Breathing. Someone’s breathing.

  She was lying on her side on something not quite as hard as the floor, and it was dark when she opened her eyes. It should have been too dark to see, but she thought she could anyway, though more with another sense than with her eyes. She got up cautiously, vaguely aware of leaving something behind her and hating that, but intensely aware that she had to see what she could of this place.

  She moved soundlessly several feet and then stopped, abruptly. Someone was right beside her. She couldn’t see him, but she felt him. She almost touched him.

  Shadows.

  Gooseflesh spread all over her now, and she found herself flinching to the side, drawing into herself. He hadn’t touched her, didn’t know she was there, and she had to make sure not to betray her presence. She didn’t know how she knew, but she was convinced that if he knew she was there, he would instantly kill Tucker.

  Cautiously, moving with exquisite slowness, she eased past the shadow in the dark. There was a doorway she went through, and it puzzled her a bit because she was almost sure the door had been closed. And locked.

  She had the overpowering sense of space around her, above her, cavernous and empty. No, she realized. Not empty.

  Shadows.

  They were all around, though not close. Watching, she realized. Waiting. Waiting for her to come. Whispering among themselves…

  Sarah moved slowly through the darkness, listening intently and trying to get a sense of her surroundings—and avoid those lurking shadows. There were other doorways, and stone or concrete walls and old, old timbers. The air was musty and damp, the dripping of water somewhere an incessant sound.

  She was so cold.

  With fingers that were slowly going numb, she reached out to touch the walls around her. After several minutes, she touched a ledge or narrow table and upon it found rows of pillar candles connected with the wispy, sticky threads of cobwebs.

  She jerked her hand back, wiping it fastidiously against her thigh, and for a moment had to stand perfectly still and breathe evenly. It was all right. Nothing here could hurt her. Because she wasn’t really here, was she? She was…well, she was somewhere else. So nothing in this place could hurt her.

  But it could scare the hell out of her.

  She forced herself to go on, searching the darkness with every sense except sight. The cavernous sensation had diminished as she had grown accustomed to the dark, and she was aware now of a roof of some kind not many feet above her head. In one small room, she found stacks of old furniture, the wood splintered and smelling of rot. In another, she found the tattered remains of some kind of cloth in moldy piles against the cold earthen walls. In still another, she found shelves and cabinets containing dusty, rusted objects she tentatively identified by touch.

  She kept going, and after she passed through what she thought was the back of a closet, she found herself in a low-ceilinged corridor that felt like a tunnel. It was leading her away from the rooms and the place where she had gotten up from the floor, and though the air around her lightened and she was aware of climbing as though out of a pit, it disturbed her to get so far away from what she had left behind.

  It was important, though, so she kept going. Until, finally, she pushed her way through heavy brush and found herself standing only a few yards from a rocky shore. The ocean, she realized, watching waves lapping against the rocks. She turned to look back at the tunnel’s entrance, finding that it was cut into almost solid rock with a cliff rearing steeply above it.

  She lifted her gaze beyond the tunnel, beyond the cliff. And in the twilight, etched sharply against the sky, she could see a cross.

  Behind her, something tugged sharply.

  “I don’t like this.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “Then bring her out of it, dammit.”

  “She has to find her own way back. If we disturb her now, she could lose the connection.”

  “Look at her. Her skin’s like ice, she’s barely got a pulse—and she’s been like this for nearly an hour. What the hell is going on?”

  “I told you. She’s out of body.”

  “Christ. I thought she was just going to reach out to Mackenzie, not go visit him.”

  “She did reach out. And since he was unconscious, it seems this was the only way she could find out where he is. By going there.”

  “There must be a better way.”

  “I don’t think so. My God, Brodie—she is the one!”

  “She’s going to be the dead one if we don’t get her back soon. Sarah? Sarah!”

  “Brodie—”

  “Sarah!”

  “What?” She opened her eyes, abruptly and completely awake and aware, and found three pairs of eyes staring at her. Their expressions varied from Cait’s half-fearful fascination to Leigh’s excited interest. Brodie just looked relieved.

  “Jesus. Don’t do that again.”

  Sarah shifted a bit in her chair and found herself a little stiff, but curiously refreshed and no more tired than she’d been before. Either this was getting easier, or she had borrowed some of Tucker’s strength. Or else this new thing required much less energy. But her hands were very, very cold. She rubbed them together. “How long was I gone?”

  “You realize you
were gone?” Leigh asked.

  “Sure,” Sarah replied, absently stretching her arms out before her to ease the stiffness. “How long?”

  Brodie glanced at his watch. “Since you closed your eyes, an hour and five minutes. You became a zombie about ten minutes into the procedure.”

  She smiled at him. “A zombie?”

  “Soulless,” he explained frankly. “A body with a beating heart. Creepy as hell.”

  Rather to her surprise, Sarah found that his honest aversion didn’t make her feel like a freak. Or maybe she was just getting so accustomed to this that acceptance had built its own armor. “Sorry I creeped you out.”

  “Oh, don’t mention it. I find this sort of thing happening with alarming frequency these days. You’d think I’d get used to it.”

  Leigh cut in impatiently. “Sarah, were you there? With Tucker?”

  She nodded. “It was dark; that’s why it took me so long. I had to feel my way around until I found the way out.”

  Bewildered, Cait said, “I thought the way out was back through Tucker. Leigh said that’s how you got there, and—”

  Sarah didn’t blame her for being confused. “I got there through Tucker, and I came back through him, but I was looking for a physical way out. One we could use when we actually—I mean physically—go there.”

  There was a part of Sarah that couldn’t believe she was discussing this so calmly and matter-of-factly. Yet to another part of her, it seemed perfectly normal and nothing to get upset or excited about.

  “A way out,” Brodie said. “As opposed to a way in?”

  Sarah looked at him. “They believe there’s only one way in, and they’re all around it—that’s the trap they’ve set. I go in, and no matter what happens inside, I can’t get out, because they close the way behind me. But I found a back door we can use, an entrance they know nothing about. How we use it depends on the plan we decide on.”

  “Where is this place?”

  “It’s an old, abandoned church right on the coast. Outside the city, but not too far away. Tucker is being held in the cellar, and it’s a big one. Lots of rooms and a rabbit warren of narrow corridors. And there are tunnels spreading out from the church; I think they were built and used for storage, and to get to other buildings when the weather was bad. Most of the tunnels are probably caved in now, but one leads through the rock and out to the beach. At that point, in that place, no one paying attention to the church would see us go in.”

  Brodie frowned. “Do you know how many of them are there?”

  Sarah felt herself shiver and looked down to watch gooseflesh rise on her arms. “I…couldn’t count them. Couldn’t…differentiate between them somehow. Just shadows lurking around me, and above me in the church. But I know there are several of them, at least. Maybe half a dozen. And one very close to Tucker, keeping watch.”

  “Did they know you were there?” Leigh asked.

  “No.” Sarah looked at her. “I was very careful not to touch any of them. I knew it was vital that they not find out I was there. Because if they had, they would have killed Tucker immediately.”

  “Why?” Cait asked, still baffled.

  Softly, Leigh said, “They would have known how she got there. They would have understood that she was already lost to them, her potential fully realized. Worse, they would have known that she was able to move among them, unseen. Find out things about them. They would have had to destroy her. Killing him would be the quickest, easiest way to do that.”

  “If they aren’t psychic,” Cait said, “could they have known she was there?”

  Leigh looked at Sarah questioningly.

  Slowly, Sarah nodded. “If I had touched any one of them…they would have known. They may not be psychic, but they—somehow—instantly recognize the paranormal when it comes into contact with them, I’m sure of that. If they had touched my…my spirit, the energy of me that was there, they would have sensed and recognized me. And if any one of them touches me physically, they’ll know I’m connected to Tucker.”

  This time, Leigh looked at Brodie. “There’s something new, something we didn’t know. We can recognize them by touch—and they can recognize us.”

  Brodie was still frowning, though he didn’t seem bewildered, just thoughtful. “I’ll make a note—for future reference. So…we have to get in there and get to Mackenzie before any of them touch you. What about him? I assume they’ve touched him already.”

  “He isn’t a strong enough psychic for them to sense,” Sarah said slowly. “And he doesn’t yet realize he can tap into my abilities. As long as he doesn’t know that, doesn’t do that, they can touch him without sensing the connection. But…”

  “But?”

  “They’ve got him drugged. But if the drug wears off and he becomes conscious, he’ll reach out to me.”

  “You’re sure of that?” Leigh asked.

  Sarah nodded. “Positive. When he became briefly conscious hours ago, I reached out to him. If I’d realized…but I didn’t. I just wanted to touch him, to make sure he was all right. And just before they drugged him again, he realized what was happening. When he can think clearly again, he’ll try to reach me. And I can’t close that door.” I wouldn’t even if I could.

  “So they’ll know about the connection if they touch him when he’s conscious.”

  “Yes.”

  “And will immediately kill him.”

  “Yes.”

  Brodie raked the fingers of one hand through his hair. “Great. Just great. We have to get past their guards without any of them touching you in any way, get our hands on Mackenzie, get him and you out of there without any of them grabbing or even touching either of you, and get away with our hides intact. And all that’s assuming we can sneak in and out and that Mackenzie doesn’t wake up and give away the show.”

  “That’s what we have to do.”

  Cait said, “But if you’re such a threat to them, won’t they just keep coming after you? I mean, even if we can get Tucker away from them, it won’t be over, will it?”

  “No,” Brodie said.

  “Duran always backs off once he’s missed his chance,” Leigh disagreed. “Sarah will have to be careful, of course, because we do know they tend to keep tabs on us. Every time I participate in one of the psychic fairs in the area, or meet some reporter for an interview, I can feel one of them nearby. But I haven’t had to look over my shoulder in years.”

  “And I think that’s a mistake,” Brodie said flatly.

  Leigh smiled at him. “You worry too much.”

  “It’s my job to worry.” He looked at Sarah. “I’m plenty worried now. Even with a back door they don’t know about, finding Mackenzie sounds like finding the center of a maze in pitch darkness—without touching any of the walls.”

  Sarah looked at him with a certain amount of sympathy but said reassuringly, “I have an idea. I think.”

  He eyed her. “Glad to hear it. Because I’m fresh out.”

  “Do you think you could get your hands on a few pairs of those infrared glasses I’ve seen soldiers wear in the movies? The kind that let you see in the dark?”

  His brows rose, but Brodie said, “Given a few hours, I think I might be able to do that.”

  “Good. I don’t know how many we’ll need—enough for all of you.” Almost absently, she added, “They like the dark, and they can see in it better than we can. I guess they have the glasses too, or something like them.”

  Brodie shook his head slightly but brought her back to the point. “Enough glasses for all of us. Okay. What about you? Please don’t tell me you’re planning to just walk into the trap?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Goddammit, Sarah—”

  “It’s the only way, Brodie. All their attention has to be on me, or you won’t be able to get to Tucker. But don’t worry, I don’t have a death wish.” She glanced at Leigh, who was smiling. “Not anymore.”

  “If that’s supposed to make sense,” Brodie said, �
�it doesn’t.”

  “That’s okay. It makes sense to me.” Sarah began to lean forward to tell them all what she had in mind, but when her hand came to rest on her thigh, she felt something peculiar. She looked down and, as she lifted her hand slowly, saw the sticky white threads clinging to her fingers and to the denim covering her thigh.

  It was just where she had wiped her hand in the cellar of the church.

  Where she had not physically been.

  “Sarah? What is it?” Brodie asked.

  “Cobwebs,” she murmured. She looked at him and the others, saw their puzzlement, and said slowly, “I think I have another plan.”

  Cait slipped out of the house through the patio door and felt rather than heard Brodie glide up beside her. “My turn to stand watch,” she said in a low voice. “It’s nearly three.” She paused, looking up at him as her eyes adjusted to the dark, then said, “But I don’t know why we’re doing this. You said nobody’s been watching Leigh.”

  “As far as we know, that’s true.” His voice was as low as hers. “But they’ve been on Sarah ever since she left Richmond, so it’s at least possible they know she’s here. And I wouldn’t put it past Duran to make his move tonight while we’re trying to get rested and ready for tomorrow. So stay alert, Cait. Keep your gun handy, and don’t hesitate to raise the alarm if you even suspect something is wrong. If there’s one thing they hate, it’s attention, but it’s something we can deal with; explaining a few gunshots to the police is a small price to pay for caution, and it’s a hell of a lot better than having another psychic taken from under our noses.”

  Cait nodded. “Don’t worry, I know the drill.”

  “I know you do.” Still, he sounded restless, and unease was reflected in his next words when he said, “I think I’ll take one more walk around the area, just to be sure—”

  “Go to bed, Brodie.” She stared up at his shadowy face and wished she had the nerve to suggest she join him there. “You haven’t slept more than two or three hours a night since we got on to Sarah, and you’ll need to be rested when we go after Tucker tomorrow. I can handle this.”