The Enlightened (14 page)

“If we hadn’t hid, we could’ve killed Caleb quicker,” she says.

“Using Darren as a distraction was smart. If Caleb had seen us, with guns, he would’ve been rolling about like a maniac, the way Sam did, remember? And that didn’t go so well.”

“Whatever,” she says and stops. “Roll up his jeans and help me put Darren’s hand on his leg.”

We brought my frozen self here so I could phase out quickly. I’m grateful to Hillary for thinking of this precaution. If they’d had to carry me through the whole airport, I think I might’ve died on the way. As my hand touches the hairy leg of my other self, we phase out.

Oh, the bliss of not having broken ribs, elbows, and other parts. As the noise of the airport returns, I relish not being in pain. Even the discomfort of my full bladder is a welcome contrast to the debilitating agony I experienced in the Quiet.

So the first part of the plan worked. Caleb is Inert. He’s still very dangerous, but he can’t see the next part coming by using the Quiet. The next part of the plan is where my friends and my aunt slow him down, the corollary to which being that it will slow the monks down, too.

My part is next, and it’ll be tricky. I have to deal with the monks approaching me, starting with the Master, who’s closest. I also need to do this as quickly as I can.

I watch as the Master closes the distance between us. The monk behind him is on his burner phone.
Crap.
Everyone will know where I am. I need to deal with the Master even more quickly if I’m to have a chance at getting out of this.

“Come with me, my son,” the Master says once he’s standing within striking distance of me. Is this some kind of kung-fu, violence-avoiding mumbo jumbo? He wants me to go peacefully so he won’t have to fight? Not happening.

I assess the situation and formulate a makeshift plan. Since this isn’t the Olympics, where sportsmanship matters, I kick the Master in the balls—no disagreeing to go with him, no warning, nothing. As I do, I recognize that the move is a standard Krav Maga groin kick.

To my utter amazement, the Master doesn’t fall to the ground screaming, as any regular man would. He performs what looks like a tai-chi move with his hands, takes a deep breath, and settles into a defensive stance. Getting over my initial marvel at his lack of a reaction, I kick him in the shin. He moves out of my reach and then lunges forward and punches my exposed shoulder.

The shoulder hurts like hell, and what makes it worse is knowing I can’t undo the damage by phasing out. This is the real world, and these are real injuries. Thinking of phasing gives me an idea, and I slip into the Quiet.

I’m standing beside the Master and myself. He’s about to kick me behind my knee. I have an advantage here. I can phase in and out to observe his next move. This is the strategy that Caleb mentioned to me once.

A very promising strategy.

Phasing out, I move my foot out of the way, turning to face my opponent from a more opportune position. As soon as I do, I phase into the Quiet.

I examine my attacker. His shoulder and arm muscles are tensing in a way that suggests he’s about to punch me with his right hand. With some confidence, I suspect the punch will be aimed at my shoulder that he already damaged.

I phase out and walk under the punch, placing one of my own into his midsection. His abs are like steel, and I doubt I hurt him at all.

I freeze everything again.

Aha! He wants to bring down his elbow on my arm. And his leg is getting ready for a kick.

I phase out and avoid both attacks, and then do an aikido-inspired throw, something that should be foreign to his style of fighting. The Master falls to the ground, and I give him the Caleb special—a kick to the ribs. Then, just in case, I phase into the Quiet—and I’m glad I did.

The other monk is almost on me.
Shit.
Even with the advantage of the Quiet, I’m not sure I can deal with two people at once. I need to knock the Master out so I can deal with this new guy.

I phase out and kick the Master in the jaw. He moves his head, and my kick’s impact is drastically diminished.

I spare a glance at the other attacker and see the younger monk behind him; he’s almost caught up to his companion.

I’m done. I can’t deal with three of them at once.

I look at the younger monk, who’s trying frantically to close the distance, and consider my rapidly dwindling options.

Then the younger monk grabs his brother monk by the shoulder.

“Darren,” the young monk says, “run for the gate.”

I get it. This is the monk we thought might be Guidable by Hillary. Looks like our theory was right.

“Last call for JFK-bound flight 2447,” I hear over the intercom.

Oh no. I decide to follow Hillary’s suggestion. I turn to run, but the Master’s hand grabs my leg.

I phase in, and the noises around me fall silent.

I run through the frozen people, in the direction of the gate. I need to buy myself a little extra time. As I move, I notice Eugene in the distance. In the real world, he’s running away from the gate. I contemplate pulling him in but decide against it. Let him focus on whatever he’s doing.

It takes me a few seconds to locate the girl who made the announcement. I Read her and learn what I already know. There are only moments left before departure. I also learn who her boss is.

No one is flying anywhere without me,
I say to the frozen girl and look for her boss. In her mind, he’s in charge of ending the boarding process.

It takes me a few minutes to locate the guy—a thin, mousy individual. I Guide him to wait for me. Then I Read him and learn that despite what his subordinate thought, when it comes to boarding, not everything is up to him.

Armed with this new knowledge, I enter the jet bridge leading to the plane and locate the pilot. Reading him, I learn I can’t stall things for too long, not without making a journey to Flight Control and visiting a bunch of other airport bureaucrats. I do the best I can and Guide the pilot not to take off for the next five minutes. He has that much leeway.

As I walk back to my body, I Guide any person I meet to make sure they get out of my way. I also instruct them to get in the way of any Buddhist monk they see following me. I wonder whether the monks will hurt these civilians. For some reason, I doubt it.

Regaining some of my hope, I look around. The young monk is keeping his brother busy, but it’s clear he won’t last long. The Master is bleeding, yet he’s stubbornly holding on to my frozen self’s foot. I see what I need to do. It won’t be pretty, but it should free me.

I phase out.

I swing my leg back, giving it all my strength. As expected, the Master’s wrist makes an unhealthy tearing sound. I’m glad when he lets go of me. I phase in again to see whether he’s planning to pull some other stunt, but it doesn’t look likely. I feel terrible when I see his wrist hanging at a weird angle. Whatever damage I inflicted, I remind myself, is on my grandparents’ conscience, not mine.

He’ll heal
, I tell myself and phase out. As soon as the sounds of the airport are back, I run.

The young monk yelps in pain, meaning I probably have the older one on my tail.

The people I Guided behave as they should. Without knowing why, they step aside for me.

As I run, I phase in to see if the monk is pursuing me, and I find that he is. And it’s not just him. A few other monks are right behind me too. The new ones must’ve arrived as I was dealing with the Master. Fortunately for me, the regular airport travelers have formed an impenetrable wall in their path.

I’m halfway to the gate when the people around me start speaking in unison. “Run faster, Darren. Caleb is right behind you.” This cacophony of voices is eerie, and I instantly know it’s Hillary warning me.

I phase out and look for Caleb to see how bad the situation is.

Eugene is holding on to Caleb’s leg, not unlike the way the Master grabbed me. There’s a black and blue shiner under my friend’s eye where Caleb must have punched him.

I touch Eugene to bring him in.

“Buddy,” I say as soon as he shows up. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m stalling him,” he says, “to give you a chance.”

“Look at that.” I point to the people surrounding him and Caleb. They look like zombies zeroing in on yummy brains. “Hillary has these people under control, so Caleb isn’t going anywhere. No reason to get yourself killed.”

“Oh,” he says. “I’ll let go then.”

We get back to our bodies, and as I phase out, I continue my desperate dash for the gates. I was never much of a sprinter, but I am today. My heart is pounding in my chest, and my breathing is shallow. As I run, I hope what I told Eugene is true.

After a few more feet, I unconsciously phase into the Quiet. My body must be confusing the effects of this run with a near-death experience.

In the Quiet, I make my way back to where I left Caleb. Eugene’s released him. The zombie people have moved in on Caleb. But Caleb has managed something I’ve never seen before. He’s basically climbing on top of the crowd surrounding him. He looks like a rock star doing a strange, upright stage dive. The crowd is trying to grab him, but he’s dodging their arms. I Read a man who has a nice vantage and see Caleb moving surprisingly fast despite this strange mode of locomotion. I have to hurry.

I get back to my body, phase out, and sprint harder.

I’m approaching the door when I notice Caleb standing on someone’s head and shoulders. He’s planning to jump at me.

No fucking way
, I think as he launches himself into the air.

At the last moment, I dodge.

Caleb lands next to me, but I’m already flying through the doorway.

I smack the door in his face—literally. I think I hit his nose. Not caring what happens to Caleb, I instantly lock the door.

I hear banging behind me as I run for the plane. When I find my seat, I feel real hope. Bert looks at me with no expression whatsoever. Ignoring my friend and my full bladder, I phase into the Quiet again.

I make my way to the pilots. I’m lucky the boarding isn’t officially over as far as the pilots are concerned, or else this door would be locked. Once inside the cabin, I get inside their minds. My Guiding command is simplicity itself:

Get in the air as soon as safely possible.

Chapter 14

I
t’s only when the plane is rolling down the runway that I allow myself a sigh of relief.

“What the hell?” Bert says in confusion when I sit down next to him. “How did I get here?”

Ignoring my friend, I phase in.

The plane stops moving, along with the rest of the world. I make my way to the door and exit the plane using the inflatable evacuation slide. Luckily, this thing seems to run off compressed air and not fancy electronics.

Monks aren’t climbing up the wheels of the plane, action-movie style. Good. No one is running after us. Even better. I think I actually escaped them.

I just need to find out whether my friends are okay.

I find a way back into the airport. It’s easy to navigate high-security places in the Quiet, since I don’t have to worry about security guards and can take ‘personnel only’ pathways—at least the ones that are not important enough to require keycard entry.

I make my way to the closed gate. Caleb is frozen in the midst of a passionate argument with the mousy-looking boss.

“Good luck with that,” I say to frozen Caleb. “There’s no fucking way you’re stopping a flight that’s already en route.”

Gloating done, I find Eugene. He got up from where he’d been holding Caleb and looks to be walking away. He actually got farther than I’d expect given what just happened to him. I take that as a good sign. His eye is swelling, but I don’t see any other damage. I touch his forehead to bring him in.

“Darren,” he says. “What the hell happened
now
?”

“Nothing,” I say. “I made it. I’m on the plane.”

“Good. Now come, let me show you something.”

I follow Eugene as he leads me toward the gate. Two cops are heading in Caleb’s direction.

“Hillary’s work,” Eugene says. “Caleb is about to be apprehended. Not sure how long it will last, but there’s no way he can strong-arm his way onto your plane
now
.”

“I doubt he had a chance to begin with.”

“I guess we’ll have to wait for another flight,” Eugene says.

“Sorry about that. As soon as I land, if you haven’t gotten onto another flight already, I’ll get Bert to help you.”

“Thanks.

“Where’s your sister? I want to say goodbye.”

Without another word, Eugene briskly walks to the opposite side of the floor.

Standing by the ice cream shop, Mira is making a makeshift splint for her arm. Hillary is standing a little to the side of her. Eugene touches them in turn.

“Darren,” Mira says, concerned. “Your plane is already in motion.”

“I came back to check on you guys. What happened?”

“She tried to stop Caleb before the people I controlled got the chance to help,” Hillary says. “She’s lucky her arm is not broken.”

“That fucking bastard,” I say. “To hit a girl
...
”

“Shut up,” Mira says and walks over to me. Without warning, she kisses me with a ferocity that surprises me. She doesn’t let go, and the kiss goes on for a while.

“Should we give you kids some privacy?” Hillary asks drily. “I can Split.”

“No,” Mira says, releasing me. “He needs to get to New York.”

“That was some crazy Guiding, Aunt,” I say. “As usual.”

“She’s dangerous,” Mira says with begrudging respect. “I’m glad she’s on our side.”

We say our goodbyes, and I make my way back onto the plane, which is a hell of a lot harder than getting off was. The evacuation slide was not designed for somebody to go
up
. I manage, though, and returning to my seat, I phase out.

“You’re here because your new girlfriend wished it,” I say in response to Bert’s earlier question. “She Pushed or Guided you. You can decide what term you prefer.”

I let him think about it as I finally go to the bathroom. On my way, I have to Guide a stewardess to stop her from bugging me with her safety mumbo jumbo. Then, as the turbulence shakes me, I realize they have those rules for a reason. It doesn’t matter, though; at this point, I’d gladly hit my head to relieve my poor bladder.