“I-I can’t! I can’t!”
The words heaved, shuddered in between panicked sobs.
“Please, no! I-I can’t do it! Please! Pluh-Please!”
They ignored her and put the needle back in her arm. Her veins burned, her muscles coiled in white hot barbs, as she screeched and writhed. Sweat trickled low, collecting in salty droplets on her blistered lips.
Her body stretched and contorted, but still it didn’t work.
Was she screaming or were they?
“Get me my information!”
The noise seemed to come from everywhere, piercing her ears and spearing her brain. She writhed in the chair, eyes rolling back in her head and froth collecting on her lips, trapped between her body and her mind.
“In her arm! In her arm!”
Sharp pain.
Pain blistered through his skull. Cold, aching pain.
Frosty sunlight skimmed the toes of his trainers. Morning sky was barely distinguishable between the crowded leaves above him. The dense foliage had obviously saved him from capture as he’d lain unconscious after his fall, but that wasn’t all good. It meant that she was on her own with them.
Blinking, he stumbled to his feet, limbs stiff and uncomfortable. She would need his help to escape; psychics weren’t as well equipped as others to deal with these situations. The last psychic he’d tried to help…
Things hadn’t gone well…
Fuzzy eyes adjusted to the light. Sound bled in like water through raw sewage. Her head bumped against the glass, grey lines blurring by as the car grumbled at the fast moving bitumen.
Stale cigarette leaked out of the side door’s upholstery, stuffing her nostrils and twisting her stomach with a cold sickness. She closed her eyes again. Memories clamoured together in an attempt to reorder themselves. Muffled senses grasped at the hint of soil in the air and held on.
There’d been a boy and a man with no face. And a woman.
