The Reader Page 4

  “I do?”

  “Yes, it appears you’ve been taught by your parents. Devon and Archer tried to read you, and so have I. Even while you were under sedation, your thoughts were silent.”

  Thank goodness.

  “You can read the thoughts of everyone else?” I asked.

  “In the general population, yes. But it can be quite distracting, even disturbing.”

  “How so?” I rubbed my forehead. My headache continued to pester and interfere with normal thought.

  “For some, it can be life-threatening. The ones who’ve made it this far have been through a lot. But we’re human for the most part. We deal with the same emotional issues,” he explained with a broad gesture, “as everyone else in the world.”

  Dear God. Please tell me I’m not one of these Reader people. Please let Devon’s thoughts be a fluke.

  “We still have the same battles as any other person on this planet. We aren’t aliens after all.” He shrugged and smiled.

  Okay. That was a relief.

  “No?” I couldn’t resist teasing him a little.

  He chuckled. “You don’t believe me yet. That’s all right. This has been a lot to absorb in a short amount of time. Anyway, we haven’t moved past the challenges every human has. Anger, jealousy, love, hate, sadness—we struggle with them just like everyone else. We’ve evolved intellectually over the years, but we haven’t been able to control the basic emotions.”

  “If you controlled them, would they still be considered emotions?”

  A huge grin lit his face. “I knew I liked you. No, they wouldn’t. That would make us no better than robots. But it has caused some trouble.”

  I could only imagine.

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  “Some of us weren’t able to handle the emotional burden. I’ll save that for another time. I think you’ve had enough for one day. We’ll have an hour session every day from this point on. Write down your questions, and we’ll tackle a few during our talks.”

  Could I handle the emotional burden?

  You were created for this. The voice . . . again.

  “Doc, I’m going to ask you a question that may sound odd.”

  “That will make us even now, won’t it?” He patted my shoulder. With that small contact, I knew I could trust him. Peace filled me, and I wasn’t afraid anymore.

  “Do you hear voices in your head? Like guiding-type voices?”

  “Guiding-type voices?” His brow lifted.

  That would probably mean no then.

  “Yes, like, ‘you go, girl’ type messages. Or warning ones.”

  “It could be stress.” He stopped and turned toward me. His expression remained calm. Maybe too calm. “No,” he whispered, seeming almost in a trance.

  “What? What do you mean—no?”

  “Never mind.” He shook his head and rubbed his face.

  “Can I ask one more question?” I wanted to squeeze out as much as I could.

  He glanced at the clock. “One more.”

  “You keep telling me you’ve been around for years. Does that mean, like, fifty or a hundred . . . or longer?”

  “We’re immortal, Ann,” he said.

  “Immortal? That would mean—”

  “We don’t die.”

  “Do you feel up for a walk?” Doc asked.

  “Are you trying to distract me? What do you mean you don’t die?”

  “Come on, I have something to show you.”

  I pulled the hospital gown around me. “There won’t be any social visits will there?”

  He laughed. “No, just the two of us.”

  “Okay.” I grabbed his arm and hopped out of the bed, steadying myself. I waited for the dizziness, but it didn’t return.

  “It’s just a few doors down the hall. If you need to sit down or rest, let me know.” He studied me, making sure I was good to go.

  “Lead the way, Captain.” I gave a little salute. Although still a little loopy from the operation, I felt pretty good.

  Doc smiled and shook his head. Once we were out in the corridor, it was only a few steps to our destination. “This is my library. I think you’ll like it.”

  He opened the door, and I walked inside.

  “Wow. I mean, wow.” Books everywhere. The room was similar to my vision, but also very different. The books were old and musty, and there were thousands of them. “These aren’t normal books, are they?”

  “You’re right. These are more like diaries, a history of our group from the beginning. Well, the beginning of the written word.” His gaze over the room was filled with love.

  “Can I read them?” I asked.

  “Yes. You can come here anytime you like. This room, our history, is open to you.” His hand gestured to the shelves.

  “Will they tell me why you don’t die?” That little bomb he dropped wasn’t getting past me.

  “Yes, but I can tell you. We only die if we are involved in an accident, murdered . . . situations out of our control.” He folded his hands together. “But we don’t age like other people. We’ve conducted scientific research since the nineteen-fifties to see if we could isolate the genetic mutation that occurred during our evolution. We have ten Readers still working on it.”

  Don’t freak out.

  “A genetic mutation? That’s what you are?”

  He smiled and put one of the books back on the shelf. “In a nutshell, yes.”

  “So, let me get this straight. You’ve been alive since, when, forever or something?” It would be impossible to believe if I hadn’t been in the room. Eternal life seemed to emanate from the stories hidden behind the ancient bindings.

  “No.” He chuckled. “Not forever. We have a beginning. Our memories reach back to the period right after the last ice age, about ten thousand years ago. We’ve been evolving since. Our brains have matured within our bodies, unlike our counterparts that evolved through different generations. Back then, we lacked the refinement or sophistication we have now. As a result, our memories aren’t as clear.”

  “Has everyone with this genetic mutation lived the same amount of time? If so, why do you look older?”

  He put his hand over his heart. “I do?”

  Uh oh.

  He laughed when he saw my face drop. “I’m an elder, that’s why. I was born in the first wave of mutations. The aging process seems to have stopped for us when our bodies reached the human age of around fifty. The second wave of mutations lasted for a couple hundred years, and, with those Readers, the aging process stopped at about eighteen-years-old. “In the beginning, because we didn’t know the power we had, we still interacted with everyone else on the planet. Children were born, families formed. But this created a problem. With the mixing of the races, a few more mutations were formed. We had three different races—all who believed they were superior.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.”

  Was I actually beginning to believe this?

  “It wasn’t. There were wars, and an entire race was wiped out.”

  “What do you mean, a race?”

  “The Seers. They could see the future. They were a talented bunch. Quite helpful.” He shook his head, and his eyes softened. “There are still a few watered-down descendants. You know them as psychics.”

  “You mean those people can actually see the future? They aren’t just trying to make a buck?”

  “Some of them are the crooks and liars you believe them to be. But no, not all. A few have the gift. But it isn’t anywhere near the pure version of their forefathers. The Readers survived, but, unfortunately, another group did as well.”

  “Another mind-reading group?”

  “No, the other group is the Hijackers. We call them the Jacks for short.”

  “Oh. Archer and Devon told me about them. They said the Jacks might be after me?”

  “Ahh. That. We’re not sure about their motives yet. What we do know is, that given the chance, they’d wipe us off the planet, just like they did to The S
eers.” He stared off in the distance.

  “Why would the Jacks want to wipe you out?”

  “They didn’t at first, mind you. We all worked together as a unit. The Seers would let us know when there was trouble. Like an earthquake, fire—well, mostly natural disasters because man hadn’t created their own disasters yet. We, The Readers, would read the minds of the people affected by an upcoming disaster, and, if they didn’t plan on taking immediate action, the Jacks would go in and change their minds. We worked together like this until the big war.” He pointed to the corner of the room. “That section over there. There’s where you’ll find all the information about the battles.”

  “How big was it?” My heart raced. Could all this be true?

  “I’ll get to that in a minute. To understand, you’ll need to know a little more about the Jacks. Their mutation was different. While we could keep our bodies young indefinitely, they aged and died like everyone else. Unless, of course, they could hijack another human and use the body as their own.”

  “Wha . . . what?”

  “They’ve survived since the beginning doing this. . . .”

  “They sound like that movie. Invasion of the . . . oh, what was the name?”

  “Body Snatchers. There’s one big difference.”

  “What’s that?”

  “They aren’t alien. And, once they settle into their new body by killing the human soul, it’s almost impossible to distinguish what they’ve done. They’ve created havoc for many, many years.” He went to a side table, poured us both a glass of water, and handed one to me. “But I’ll let your history class fill you in.”

  “Class?” I almost choked on my water.

  “School. You’ll start in a few days once you feel better.”

  A few days? I needed to get past the next few minutes.

  “I just have one more question. Why do they want to wipe out The Readers?”

  “When we saw what they were up to, we began to stop them. For whatever reason, we have the gift of eternity, and the Jacks were jealous and fearful. They aren’t capable of hijacking a Reader, so now we’re seen as a threat to them. As time played out, we’ve become the protectors of the planet, and they want to destroy us.”

  I tipped my head to the side.

  “We plan to stop them by any means necessary.”

  “You mean . . . you’d kill them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Am I in the middle of some war between the two races? Is this some sort of holy war?”

  “Yes and no. We believe in good and evil.”

  “Okaaay . . .” Oops. That sounded snarky.

  “You’re welcome to think what you want. But make no mistake, this battle is real, and if we don’t win—mankind will be lost forever.” His grave expression made me regret what I said.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to doubt you. I’m trying to process everything. It’s just that, well, this whole story is a lot to take in.”

  “Every soul on this planet is born with free will, and just like everyone else, we make mistakes.”

  He motioned to the door. “You’ve been through a lot today. Let’s get you settled into your room so you can mull this over. Do you think you can walk a few more hallways?”

  After what he just told me, I was pretty sure I could run. As far and fast as possible to get out of here.

  This is where you belong. That guiding voice again.

  I’m ignoring you, so you can stop now.

  “Yes, I can make it.” Physically, I felt good; emotionally was another subject.

  After the elevator zigzagged through a maze of tunnels and buildings, we finally arrived at our destination.

  The corridor, like everywhere else, had high ceilings with natural light coming through hundreds of tubes.

  I craned my neck. “How tall are they?”

  Doc chuckled. “I have a feeling you’ll never get bored here.”

  “Why is that?”

  “It will take a century to answer all your questions.”

  “Ha ha.”

  “The ceilings are twenty feet high. It’s important for all who live here to have the feeling of light and openness. The human mind is fragile. We’ve learned this the hard way over the years.”

  I tilted my head.

  He looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. “There have been deaths.” His eyes revealed a pain so intense, it shot to my core. I wished I hadn’t asked that question. A vision of a lovely girl, maybe twenty years old, dancing in a meadow, flashed before it faded away. What was that? A memory?

  “Someone close?” I asked.

  “Yes. They all were.” He breathed deeply and ran his fingers through his hair. Composing himself, he stopped in front of a door. “Here you are, room 777.” He swung it open.

  I walked inside, taking in the large room. I loved it. High ceilings and open floor plan, plantation-style furniture, with a carved teak mantel and surround framing a . . . fireplace?

  “Is that just for show?” I ran my fingers over the dark wood millwork.

  “It’s a working fireplace. We keep the temperature regulated, but some people like the extra warmth and coziness of a crackling fire. We have a system to recycle the smoke back into the kitchen and use it for fuel. One of our runners found this technology in an East Indian factory. We travel there quite a bit. They’re quite inventive.” Pride showed on his face.

  “Look at this kitchen.” Granite countertops and all the modern appliances made it both functional and beautiful. Was that one of those fancy espresso machines in the counter? “How do you get everything in here?”

  He smiled. “Trucks.”

  “Stupid question.” I laughed.

  I stopped. The wall on the opposite side of the room had floor-to-ceiling shelves stuffed with books. I approached slowly, running my hands over the spines. A happiness I couldn’t define washed over me. I turned and took a closer look the room. Decorated in shades of blue and green, it had just a few feminine touches. With a comfy, oversized chair, woven rugs, and an afghan draped over the corner of the couch—it was perfect.

  Too perfect.

  A knot began to form in my stomach. “You knew I was coming.”

  “We hoped you’d come.” He shook his head. “But not under these circumstances.”

  “Have you been . . . watching me, I mean . . . us?” The knot tightened.

  “We’ve kept a watchful eye on you, but only for your protection. We knew of you, and that you were possibly one of us.” His eyes didn’t waver.

  “If we were Readers like you, why didn’t you protect my parents?” My throat constricted.

  “We’d just found out. Your parents ran an article in their university paper about telekinesis and mind-reading. We believed it might be their signal to us for help, but had to be sure. We watched and waited.” He continued to rub his hands through his thick, grey hair. “But we were too late. I’m so sorry, Ann.”

  I nodded, taking everything in. “I’m sure it wasn’t your fault. Are you sure I’m one of your Readers?”

  “You’ve lost your memory. The only way to convince you would be to introduce you to the general population on the outside. I’m already convinced, but it would only take about five minutes before you’d know what I told you is true.”

  “Five minutes? When can we go?” The idea of it was both terrifying and exciting.

  “Soon. As I said, for some Readers, it can be overwhelming. The fact we can’t hear your thoughts lets us know you’re not only a Reader, but a powerful one. Usually, when we find a new Reader, they don’t have the skill of blocking yet. Your parents have done a good job.” His smile reassured me.

  “How does the blocking skill work?” I went over to the espresso machine and fiddled with it.

  “It’s like breathing to us; no one can get through. Except . . .”

  “Except?” I popped in a cup and pressed the button. That was almost too easy.

  “We’ll talk about that soon.” He smiled agai
n.

  More information I wasn’t ready for. But at least now I could have a cup of hot coffee.

  “How do you know I’m not one of those Jack people?” I held my breath, waiting for his answer.

  “We sent our best, Archer and Devon, to find and evaluate you. They couldn’t hear your thoughts, so that’s when they knew you were one of us. The Jacks aren’t mind-readers. They don’t have the ability to block.”

  I wasn’t a Jack. One bit of good news for the day.

  “Do you want a cup of coffee? This machine is great.” I held up my cup.

  He smiled and shook his head.

  I remembered the tingly feeling I had when Devon touched me and wanted to ask him about it, but no—it was too embarrassing.

  “I wish I had my memory. It’s hard for me to know what’s real.”

  He patted my hand. “Just concentrate on getting better. Right now, it’s not important for you to believe what I’ve told you. I do want you to know we are all here to help and keep you safe.”

  “Thanks for everything, Doc.” I tried to stifle a yawn, but it didn’t work. Ten more minutes and the coffee would kick in.

  “Try to rest. I’ll have Devon and Archer pick you up first thing in the morning. You’ll need a tour around Samara.”

  “Why both?” I didn’t want Devon around me. He made me feel all sorts of uncomfortable with the dark, brooding way he had about him.

  “Why not?” Doc eyed me.

  “I don’t know.” How to put this? “I don’t think Devon likes me very much. He’s grouchy around me.”

  Doc’s head tipped back, and he let out a chuckle. “He’s like that with everyone. He has the weight of the world on his shoulders. At least, that’s what he thinks.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Among other things, it’s his job to find the lost Readers. He’s found three in the last hundred years.”

  “And because I’m a Reader, I’ve been brought here for my protection.” I put my cup back on the counter.

  He nodded. “Exactly.”

  “What if it’s proved I’m not one of your Readers, what then? Will you kill me?” I braced for his answer.