Rebecca lay on the cot, tossing and turning as sleep refused to come. Confident in her powers, she had no concerns about the upcoming raid on Alcatraz. Instead, it was what would come after that gnawed at her. Would Terry look at her the same way, and would she have a relationship with the only people she had known as her parents?
In her mind, it felt as though Rebecca was dead and that Salem was how she now identified herself. With her powers turned on, the idea of flicking them off again seemed unappealing.
Rolling over, she focused on the door and began controlling the lock with her mind, marveling at how easy it was to slide it open and closed. While she fiddled with the lock, Salem raised her arm and willed a glass of water on the table across the room into her hand. All of it felt strange, but also somehow natural, like these were acts she should be performing.
Sitting up, she took a sip of water and closed her eyes, concentrating on the sounds outside her spartan room.
Just behind her walls, she heard rodents and insects scuttling around in search of food scraps. The guards outside her door talked in hushed tones, the occasional word becoming clear. If she really focused, Salem knew that she would hear the entire conversation, but she cast her mind further, searching for Terry and hoping that he was somewhere nearby.
Her search came back empty, and she could feel the anger begin to brew inside. Exhaling slowly, Salem fought to regain her inner calm, not wishing to expend too much energy before making the trip to Alcatraz and potentially coming face to face with her mother.
The sound of footsteps coming down the hallway beyond her room snapped her back to the present. With a wave of her hand, she unlocked the door and opened it, smiling when she saw Drake, hand raised and ready to knock. “Come in,” Salem said, sending the glass of water back to the table.
If Drake was surprised by the glass floating across the room, he didn’t show it. He gave it the merest glance as he strode into the room, followed by Bits and Bytes.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Salem asked, doing nothing to hide the sarcasm in her voice.
Pulling a cheap plastic chair over beside her bed, Drake sat and studied her for a moment before speaking. “Mr. Thorn would like to know if you are comfortable.”
Glancing around the room, Salem smirked. “It’s not the Hilton, but it’ll do.”
Drake nodded. “He also asked me to pass on some news.”
Salem pushed herself up and leaned forward, the springs on the mattress groaning in protest as she moved. “Okay.”
“It’s about your mom and dad.”
“Selina and Craig, you mean? I think we are all past that pretense now.”
“Sure, Selina and Craig.”
Salem felt her skin warm as she wormed her way inside Lionel Drake’s head, looking for the truth behind the lies she was almost certainly about to hear. As hard as she pushed, there was nothing to see. It was akin to trying to read a wet book whose ink had bled, making the words illegible.
Drake’s left eye twitched slightly as he spoke. “I’m afraid there was an accident, and…”
“What kind of accident?” Salem continued to probe.
“A vehicle collision. Craig died on the scene. We did all we could for your mo… for Selina, but she also passed. I’m sorry.”
She looked beyond Drake to Bits and Bytes, who stood by the door, heads down, refusing to make eye contact. Salem probed the IT team but ran across the same issue. “What about Terry?”
“What about him?” Drake asked.
“Where is he?”
Your boyfriend is safe. I have another member of our security team staying with him at a safe house. No harm will come his way, I assure you.”
Salem leaned forward until she was almost nose to nose with Drake. “He had better be safe. If anything happens to him, I will hold you responsible. Are we clear?”
The chair scraped loudly across the concrete floor as Drake pushed it backwards and stood. “He’ll be fine. I’ll be back to brief you before we move on Alcatraz.”
“When are we leaving.”
Pausing at the door, his back to Salem, Drake said, “Soon. Get some rest. I have a feeling you might need it.”
***
Once they were clear of the building adjacent to the Thorn Industries main warehouse, Drake smiled at Bits and Bytes. “Did you feel it?”
Bits shuddered. “She was definitely inside my head. Not an experience I’d care to repeat anytime soon.”
“Like ants crawling under the skin,” Bytes added.
Fishing in his left ear, Drake plucked out a small metallic disc that looked like a watch battery. “I think we can agree that your little blocking device worked like a charm.”
“What makes you so confident?” Bytes asked.
Drake thought about the pile of destroyed mannequins and targets back in the space where Salem trained. “Because, boys, I am still alive.”
God, I hate these guys.
Oh heck yeah. Jumping in now.