Brain Storm by Cat Gilbert (detective books to read .TXT) 📖

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I WOKE UP to an amazing sunrise. I wasn’t sure if the brilliant colors were a result of whatever drug they had given me or just God’s magnificent palette, but it was awesome. It would have been better, though, if I hadn’t been so cold. The rats had staked me out, flat on my back, in the snow, in my pajamas. It was deep enough that it was like laying in a white box, unable to see anything but what was directly above me. It was oddly peaceful. Like I was the only person in the world, and I savored it for a moment. I hadn’t been alone for months now, and it was starting to get to me. Three months, actually, if you wanted to get technical. Three months since I’d come out of the coma. Three months since I’d made my agreement with Lars. Three months since I’d left them. My family. My friends. The people I was responsible for. And for what?

I’d agreed to work with Lars and to try and be cooperative. I had the final say in what we did or did not do, but I didn’t think it would be good to start out by digging in my heels and refusing what he proposed. The result of my trying to be agreeable was three months of isolation from the people I cared most about. I’d barely even had time to fill everyone in on what was happening before they whisked me out the door to this place.

Where we were, I had no idea. Why we were here, I had a pretty good handle on. Lars and his team had put me through the paces, training me in how to use all the latest equipment, weapons, and technology. Forget judo, karate, and kung fu. Lars had brought in a specialist to train me in hand to hand combat. This was not self-defense. There were no special holds, no stances or forms to memorize. This was all about how to attack. It was about where and how to hit. How to ensure your opponent went down and didn’t get back up to come after you. The training was exhausting, especially in the beginning, but it was important stuff to know. I wasn’t always going to be able to use my mental powers. Guns were great as long as you had time to get one out, but with this, I was prepared for the hand to hand stuff. I could fight a guy bigger than me and have a good chance of coming out alive. I liked that. Especially considering there were bad guys after me.

But I didn’t like this. This was Lars’ doing. His attempt to get things kickstarted. My mental powers had disappeared as soon as I left the Agency. If I hadn’t used them in the hospital room, I would have thought I’d lost them from the damage I’d taken in the explosion. But they had been there at the hospital. I had moved that chair. Lars saw it. So did Mac. That was the last time my powers had surfaced. One minute they were there, the next they were gone. Mac and Connors had warned about this. This was exactly why they couldn’t prove telekinesis existed. Something happened when people were forced to try to duplicate their powers in a lab. They just couldn’t do it. The power seemed to disappear. Sometimes for good. Which wouldn’t be all that bad, except the people after me would never believe it. They’d keep coming until they got me and then where would I be? Up the creek without a paddle, that’s where. And Lars knew it. He’d thought up more scenarios than anyone could have possibly imagined, in an attempt to ‘provoke’ my powers, but all he’d succeeded in doing was annoying both his team and me. I had hoped he’d given up, but apparently, he hadn’t and if this was any indication, he was getting more creative.

Where did that leave me? Laying outside in a little snow box, that’s where. Unfortunately, there was no bottom to this box and my flannel pajamas were no protection against the melting snow beneath me. I was wet and cold and just as frustrated and tired as Lars was. I missed my friends and family. I was done. I’d been cooperative enough. It was time to end it. The thought of finally going home, wherever that might be, made me smile, but it was my freezing backside that got me moving.

My feet and legs were free, but my arms were fully extended over my head, and a light yank confirmed that my wrists were chained to something firmly set behind me. Great. Just great. No way to just stand up and leave. Now I was going have to get wetter. I rolled over, propped myself up on my elbows and popped my head up above the snow to get a look. They would be able to see me, but I didn’t care. It’s not like they didn’t know I was here and they fully expected me to wake up at some point. I couldn’t see them, but I knew they were somewhere close by. I could feel them watching me. Waiting. I ignored my surroundings and focused on the situation at hand and my objectives. First, to get loose and second to get some dry clothes and a big cup of hot coffee.

They’d zip-tied my hands together with heavy duty cable ties, like the ones the police use. There is no breaking those. You struggle, and they just get tighter. Regular zip ties or even duct tape would have been so much easier, but then easier hadn’t been what they were going for.

They had run a chain around the ties, and I followed the links as they disappeared into the snow, the shadowy track leading to a metal post with a big u-bolt screwed into it. The post was three to four feet away, giving me enough slack to move around some if I got closer. Maybe I’d given them too much credit. Here I thought they were getting smarter, what with the dart gun and heavy duty cable ties. Leaving me in the snow and cold had been a good move. I hate both those things. But giving me room to maneuver? Big mistake.

I scooted closer to the pipe to get more slack in the chain and gained just enough to be able to stand without stooping