Michael reached out for my hand.
“No.” I struggled not to sound like I was pleading when I really just wanted to drop to my knees and beg. “I didn’t ask you to do what you did. You can’t make me help you … because of some … sick and twisted idea about what I owe you.”
Jack’s answering smile broadcast his tolerance, as if I were merely misbehaving instead of telling him no. “I did what I did because it was necessary. Consequences be damned.”
“Consequences,” Michael said under his breath. “All this traveling you’ve been doing—changing things. It’s had an effect, hasn’t it? The space-time con—”
“Is fine. We’re talking about the formula now.” Jack’s voice was dismissive. He stepped away from Cat, moving closer to me. “Are there memories you can’t live without, Emerson? Those of your parents, healthy and alive? Of who you are at all? Or do you want me to return some of the more … unpleasant ones? The time in the hospital? The agony, the grief? Did you really believe it was simply mind-numbing?”
The thought of more pain than I’d experienced already was almost too much to take. Then Michael squeezed my hand, reminding me that if pain came, I wouldn’t have to deal with it alone.
“It doesn’t matter what you say.” I took a deep breath and looked Jack dead in the eye. “I won’t give you the computer disk. I can’t hand you the power to hurt anyone else.”
As quickly as a lightning strike, Jack was beside me.
Michael tried to step between us, and Cat shoved the gun under his chin. He let go of my hand as he prepared to strike, his intent to fight for control clear. I cried out.
“Michael, don’t.” Tears escaped to journey down my cheeks. I looked into his eyes, begging. “I need you on the other side of this.”
If I survive it.
He stopped cold. The pain began.
I held Michael’s face in my mind’s eye as my ears filled with the same rush of air that overtook me when Kaleb tried to take my pain. This time the sound pushed its way into my brain. I cried out, my body sliding to the ground in bone-crushing agony as memories flooded my mind.
The slow slide of the shuttle bus, wrapping itself around a tree. Fire, calls for help, the smell of burning flesh and the metallic tinge of blood in my mouth. I knew I was screaming; I could hear myself. I couldn’t stop.
The visions kept coming. Squeaky metal wheels on a hospital distribution cart, bringing endless trays of food that went back untouched. My arms, looking as if someone had draped skin over my bones. My body, insignificant under the covers, as if it belonged to a small child.
Thomas, heartbreak written all over his face.
The rushing sound slowed, and I curled up into a ball. Freezing, I shoved my hands into the pocket of my jacket to wrap it around me. I heard Michael begging quietly, the sound more painful than if he’d been screaming directly in my ear. Bits and pieces, pictures of my life, kept coming at me. I had no hope of deflecting them.
Two caskets. A long black hearse. An endless array of pills, the clinical smell of a hospital. Staring at the same spot on the ceiling for days on end. Dru crying. Shock treatment. The feeling of hundreds of tiny needles grafting skin onto my back as the medication haze failed to cover the pain. Staring into the face of a counselor as he talked to me about survivor’s guilt. My screaming morphed into helpless whimpers.
“Stop.” Michael’s voice grew louder. “I’ll give you whatever you want. Please don’t do this to her. Please.”
The pictures disappeared. Except for the pounding in my head, the room went quiet.
Before the memories could take root, Jack’s face loomed over me, his expression charitable. I closed my eyes to block him out. The sound of air rushing past my eardrums returned, this time in a vacuum. I could feel the memories slipping away again, leaving nothing but static. I lay there shaking, my muscles as fatigued as if I’d been running for days.
“See, love,” I heard Jack say in a tender voice. “I can give. Or I can take away. The choice is yours.” His next words were a whisper. “Don’t ever forget what you owe me.”
My cheek lay flat against the wooden floor, tears the only thing between. My head felt too heavy to lift, my eyes too tired to keep open. Jack’s invasion of my mind left me wrecked in a ball on the ground. Broken.
“Now,” Cat said. “Tell us where the computer disk is.”
I shifted slightly and something dug into my ribs.
Cat wanted the disk. And I had it.
“No.” I pushed myself into a sitting position as my strength returned in a hopeful rush.
“Emerson, tell them,” Michael pleaded. “Tell them where it is. Don’t let him hurt you again.”
“I say we kill you both where you stand,” Cat offered, all the ugliness in her soul manifested in her face. “We can find it without you. There can’t be too many places to look.”
I found it almost impossible to think over the pounding in my head. “If I tell you … where it is … what’s going to keep you from killing me?”