Minders

CHAPTER 26

You say a word, I’ll slit your throat,” Linc growled. “But I’m going to get you out of here if I can. Do you understand?”

“Why should I believe you?” Ford demanded.

For a second it almost looked like Linc was going to laugh. “Because if I wanted to kill you, you idiot, I would have done it already. I can’t believe James always said you were the smart one.”

“Relatively speaking,” Ford told him. The knife was still against his throat. “You keep that nice and sharp.”

Linc got the same this-is-what-I’d-look-like-if-I-ever-laughed expression again. “Don’t make me regret this.” He sheathed the knife, said, “Come on,” and started navigating across the debris-covered floor toward the back of the theater.

“Where are we going?” Ford asked, trying to fill in the empty parts of his mental map of the building as they walked. Having a knife to his throat had stilled Ford’s internal landscape, making his mind lucid and supple. Sadie made a mental note to look up the effects of adrenaline before meeting with the Committee.

“They’ve staked out the back and main stairs,” Linc said. “If we climb over the stage, we can get to the old coal chute. It’s unguarded.”

“Up and over the stage?” Ford whispered. “In plain view? That’s nuts.”

“I just did it. They’re not looking for you, they’re looking for your chirp. They keep their eyes down on the readers. But if anyone looks up, fight like you’re fighting for your life. I will be.”

You can do this, Sadie told Ford. This could work.

“Where’s Bucky?” Ford asked.

“In the back of the Range Rover. With your friend.”

“We have to get him.”

“Impossible,” Linc growled, and there was no question it was final. “If you make it out of here, call the highway patrol and report the car stolen. Black Ranger Rover.”

“What make? What year?”

“You want me to wipe your ass for you too? You make a big enough fuss, they’ll find it. Tell them it’s your wife’s car and you don’t know all that information. They’ll pull it over, should be time. Highway Patrol, not Serenity Services. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Stay within three feet of me. Farther, and you’re blown.”

The map he’d been compiling unfolded in Ford’s mind, the path Linc had laid out most clear but the rest still visible. Sadie could see spots of color, images, hovering around the edges, but he was keeping the center clear of distractions. His heart rate was remarkably even, his breathing a little shallow but not fast, and Sadie concentrated on matching hers with his.

They got to the scaffolding that went to the catwalk and were halfway up when Linc stopped moving to take a phone call. There were three guys in ski masks on the stage, each holding a palm-sized monitor in one hand and an automatic rifle in the other, not more than twenty feet from them. Sadie felt Ford’s heart beat babum, babum as he hung there, completely exposed, listening to Linc whisper, “I understand. Yes. I’ll take care of it,” before continuing on. His forehead was sweating and his mouth was dry, and his knuckles ached from holding on.

They made it up to the top and started across. Sadie willed Ford not to look down, but she was having trouble controlling her breathing, and her hands were shaking.

Linc dropped over the side abruptly to begin his descent. Ford hadn’t realized the edge was coming, and it took him a second to catch up.

Too long. His relay chirped. Three pairs of eyes all swiveled toward him. Bullets started to fly.

Down, Sadie urged, but instead of descending the side of the scaffold near them, he ran back the way he’d come. She heard him assessing the outer wall of the building and thought, No, oh, no. The gap between it and the scaffolding was easily five feet across, and the wall was two feet higher than they were. It’s the only chance, she heard him think at the same moment she thought, There’s no way—

He made a mad flying leap for the wall. Sadie screamed and closed her eyes and didn’t stop until his fingers had caught—just barely—the top of the stone. He hauled himself up, a bullet nicking his shoe, and slid down the wall on the other side.

He’d forgotten that the theater was elevated so he dropped five stories, more than the two he’d been expecting, and landed with a thud that made his recovering knee feel like it had been kicked all over again. He had to blink twice to clear his head, then blinked again in disbelief.

Wait, was that—?

He was standing across the street from the Candy Factory, Plum’s club.

He turned to look behind him and started to laugh. The building he’d left, the one housing the theater, was the Surprise Party Outlet Store. Surprise Outlet. Sadie heard him repeat to himself. As in surprise exit. Bucky had written it right on the sign.

He started limping toward the Candy Factory, his mind plotting a map of the connection between the two buildings—a mile and a half on the streets but only about a quarter mile if you put tunnels that looked like hallways through the empty lots behind the buildings. Distracted, he walked in front of a limo pulling up in front of the club. It blasted its horn, which prodded Ford’s memory.

The Range Rover. Jogging up the front steps of the club, he pulled out his phone and dialed the Highway Patrol.

“My car has just been stolen,” he told the operator. Sound more hysterical, Sadie urged. “It’s a black Range Rover. Recent. No, I don’t remember what year. The license?” Sadie felt Ford’s mind contract.

It’s 145T90, Sadie said.

“It’s my wife’s car,” he explained. “I’m not sure if she has it written down anywhere.”

It’s 145T90, Sadie repeated.

“Is there any way you can locate the car without the exact—

145T90! 145T90! 145T90! Sadie shouted.

“It’s 145T90,” Ford said.

There was absolute silence.

“Hello? Sir?” the operator on the other end of Ford’s phone asked. “Sir, are you there?”

“Yes,” Ford said. “I have to go.”

He ended the call but didn’t move. “Who are you?” he said aloud.

Sadie was petrified.

“Who the hell are you?” he growled, causing a group of women to turn and stare at him.

Anger rushed to fill his mind. He walked into the club, grabbed the first person in a Candy Factory apron he saw, and asked for the nearest bathroom. When he got there he announced it was closed for cleaning, kicked everyone out, and locked the door.

A seven-foot-tall gilt-framed mirror leaned against one wall. He went and stood in front of it, staring at his eyes.

“Are you in there?” he asked.

Sadie ducked, lowering her eyes. This wasn’t a good idea. Nothing about this was—

“Goddamn it, I know you’re there, look at me.”

Fine, Sadie thought. She raised her eyes and met his.

A thrill reverberated through her but was almost immediately skewed and made jagged and painful by the force of his hate.

“I feel you in there,” he said, grabbing his head between his hands. “I can feel you, and I want you out.” He banged his head against the glass mirror, hard, making a long, V-shaped crack.

“Ford, no!” Sadie shouted.

He was staring wildly in the mirror again, and she realized he’d heard her. “I’ll keep doing it. I’ll keep doing this until you’re gone.” He banged his head twice.

Stop, please, she sobbed. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I love you. Ford, I—

“Shut up!” he screamed. Stepping back he ran at the mirror and smashed the crown of his head into it. The entire surface of the glass shattered, sliding like a silver avalanche over him, onto the floor.

He turned to the row of five small mirrors over the sinks. “I’m not done,” he said, shattering the first one with the side of his head.

No! Sadie shrieked. She felt like she was trapped, being flung side to side with his rage. Please stop.

“What did you say? More?” His eyes were wild, glowing, pouring his hate into her. “This is for you, since you like watching people get hurt,” he said and drove his head crown first into the second mirror. A crack appeared but it didn’t completely shatter so he shook his head. “Not good enough, no, not good enough” and banged his forehead against it over and over, four, five, six times, until it shattered into powder and glass. “Look what you’ve done. Look at all the pain you’ve caused,” he said in an eerie echo of his memories of his father.

Ford, please don’t do this, she begged, crying.

“Are you happy now? Is this what you like? Driving someone out of their mind?”

No, she sobbed. I love you. I want you to be happy. I never meant any harm. I never… There was no room for the hugeness of her grief. Sadie felt like she’d swallowed all the glass he’d broken, all the fire, all the poison, and it was burning her from the inside.

I never wanted to cause you pain, she wept. I’m so sorry.

“SORRY? YOU’RE SORRY? GET THE HELL OUT OF MY MIND,” he roared, bashing his head into the third, fourth, and fifth mirrors, backward and forward, over and over until they were nothing more than frames with the occasional piece of glass still clinging in the corner.

He picked up one of those now and held it in front of his eyes. “I will keep doing this until you leave. I will destroy myself every way possible unless you get out.”

The door to the bathroom crashed to the ground, and two muscular women with guns, one a brunette with a crew cut, one bald, burst in. They stared at Ford, and Sadie pictured what they were seeing, wild eyes, blood, broken glass everywhere, a shard of mirror gripped in his hand. They both took aim.

“Drop the mirror and put your hands behind your head,” the bald woman said.

Sadie couldn’t cry anymore, couldn’t do anything. She was numb beyond numb, sore beyond sore, hurt and angry and rejected. And now two amazons were pointing automatic weapons at the man she loved, and it was all her fault.

She watched Ford’s mind hiccup into awareness of how everything must look, saw his fury that he was in this situation directed at her, at Syncopy, at the world.

He put the mirror down and his hands over his head. He tried a smile, which, judging by the reaction of the two women, did not work. “You caught me at a bad time. I was just in here yelling at myself. It—helps to motivate me. I’m meeting a girl? And I got a little carried away.”

Wow, that’s bad. And there’s no way I am responsible for that, Sadie thought. She was careful not to make a sound since he only seemed to hear her when she actually spoke, but she had no idea how their connection worked, so she was relieved when he didn’t react.

The woman with the crew cut pulled a set of cuffs off her belt and said, “Please put your hands out.”

Ford kept his hands on his head. “Is that really necessary? I was arrested by Serenity Services a week ago, and they didn’t even cuff me.”

The argument that you don’t need cuffs because you were arrested without them a week ago is a winner, Sadie thought.

“We’re a bit more professional here than Serenity Services,” the brunette said, gesturing to his hands. “We take the safety of our guests very seriously.”

He held out his wrists. “You know, if you want I can save you all the trouble and just leave,” Ford offered as she snapped the cuffs on. “Obviously I’ll pay for the mirrors, but there’s no need for paperwork or anything.”

Could this really be the same person who guessed the poker hands of an entire table blindfolded? It seemed as if he had gone tone deaf.

The bald woman gave him a very pretty smile and said, “We appreciate your concern, but for your safety as well as the safety of our guests, we want to make sure you get looked at before you go. You may have lacerations or other underlying conditions that should be treated.”

Please do not tell them that you already have lacerations from getting beaten up last week, Sadie thought.

“Do you have identification, Mr.—”

At least be bright enough to use an—

“Winter,” he said.

—easy-to-remember name, Sadie finished the thought. I hope you were smarter when I fell in love with you. Otherwise I have no excuse.

The bald one radioed that in. “First name?”

“Mason.” Sadie wondered if that was wish fulfillment, denial, or some strange act of friendship.

“Come on.” The woman with the crew cut prodded him with her gun.

“Where am I going?”

“To our facility first,” the bald woman told him. “And then, I’d imagine, to jail.”

Sadie saw Ford looking at the exits, thinking of making a run for it, when a voice said, “Oh, my. It looks like someone has been a very naughty puppy.”