Persistence of Vision

  Chapter 11: Trepidation

  Maggie and Joan stayed in what Joan called the Canyon room for more than an hour exchanging stories. Maggie told Joan what happened the day before at her house, and about running from the Arachnimen.

  Joan talked about her life and family. She was married when she was younger than Maggie and stayed with that same man until he died six years earlier. He was killed fighting the collectives, fighting to keep Joan and Lila free. Joan didn’t go into details, and Maggie didn’t press her. She could feel that the subject was an emotional one.

  “Marcus and Doc said everyone on the team ought to give me their point of view of what happened before, on the ships.”

  Joan nodded. “It’s a good idea, but we’ve been down here for a while. Why don’t I tell you as we walk back?”

  Maggie nodded. Using the lantern, Joan lit their way out of the dank passage. Once they reached the lighted pathway again, she put the lantern back into the box in the wall.

  “Joan, did you use your mind to make that work?”

  “To emit the light? Yes. This is a rock that can channel and emit light waves. The ability to produce light is already there—I just have to pull it out.”

  Maggie shook her head in wonder, and Joan chuckled.

  “You can do this too. You just have to be re-taught. Actually, you’re quite good at this particular ability. It’s one of your talents.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You were always good at finding light. Certain materials can emit more or better light than others. You’re drawn to light sources. We always joked that if we were ever thrown into a dark room, we’d want to be with you. If there was light to be found, you’d coax it forth.

  “That particular item”—Joan indicated the lantern she’d replaced—“is quite simple. It’s made of light-conductive material, so I know exactly what to do, where to look for what I need. In an unfamiliar place, it’s much harder for most people.”

  Maggie sighed as they curved their way along the abandoned bedrock corridors. “It’s frustrating that I already knew this and now I have to start from scratch.”

  Joan nodded. “I can imagine. But don’t worry too much. Everyone was amazed at how quickly you caught on last time. You’re smart and good at this. Now that you’ve done it once—have it in cell memory, perhaps—I think you’ll pick it up even faster. You’ll be amazed how much you’ll learn in a short time. Besides—”

  A deafening chime flooded the corridors. It was so jarring that Maggie’s head ached instantly. Her hands flew to her ears. The chime’s bleep was so loud and high pitched that Maggie felt like a bat was screeching down deep in her ear canal.

  Joan put a hand on Maggie’s shoulder, looking apologetic. “Sorry.”

  Maggie didn’t know if she’d said or just mouthed it. The chime drowned out anything verbal.

  The sound continued for thirty seconds before coming to an abrupt stop. Maggie dropped her hands with relief.

  “What was—” She realized she was shouting. “That,” she finished in a more normal tone. She opened and closed her jaw, trying to get her ears to pop.

  “Sorry. I haven’t had time to warn you about the alert system. Come on, we have to hurry. I’ll explain as we go.”

  Joan took off through the compound at a walk brisk enough that Maggie had to jog to keep up with Joan’s longer strides.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “I don’t suppose you noticed the number of alert sounds we heard?”

  “I was supposed to count them?”

  “You’ll learn to. This system is in place because Interchron is so big, and we don’t have a particularly great internal communication system. If two people want to talk to each other from across the mountain, there are ways to do it, but this gets everyone’s attention at once.”

  “Why would we need everyone’s attention?”

  “Because something is happening that requires all hands on deck. The first two groups of sounds tell what entrance to go to. There are five main entrances. Each entrance has a specific number assigned to it. There were three tones in what we heard. That tells us we’re going to the middle entrance on the west side. The tones were repeated twice to make sure nobody misses them.

  “The next two groups of sounds tell us the alert level. Depending on the level of alert—one through five—people know whether it’s urgent, whether to bring weapons, and whether to bring their children to help.”

  “Why would they bring their kids?”

  “It’s not always an emergency. Sometimes it’s something simple like getting a large shipment of supplies and everyone has to help unload so there is less chance of being seen. It’s not dangerous, just time sensitive. The collectives don’t know where we are. It’s crucial that the Arachnimen not see any of our entrances.”

  Maggie nodded. “I take it the tones told you that this is an emergency?”

  “Yes. The highest alert level. I don’t want to give you a weapon, Maggie. You won’t know how to use it. When we get there, just help where you can.”

  Maggie nodded, but her stomach was suddenly carsick. She could feel that they were walking into a dangerous situation.

  She followed Joan through complicated twists and turns until the hallway they were in finally opened into a wide chamber. The far wall was gone, like an enormous garage door. The only things in the cargo bay-like space were people.

  Maggie recognized many of those who came to help as people she’d met earlier. More were pouring in by the dozens. A few asked how they could help, but most just went to work. Either they already knew what to do, or they summed up the situation, found something to do, and dove in.

  “Karl, what’s happening?” Joan crossed to the center of the room where Karl stood amidst a swirl of activity.

  Maggie stayed close to her.

  “Individuals. The reconnaissance team is bringing a group in, but they’ve got Trepids on their tale.”

  Joan spun to face Maggie as Karl turned his attention to someone on the other side of the room. “The reconnaissance team is bringing in a group of outsiders, but they’re running from what we call Trepids.”

  “What are they?”

  “They’re Arachnimen but worse than the ones you saw. These are trained to hunt down and torture enemies. Doc told you that the individuals are being murdered? These men are committing the murders. They have a reputation for terror, torture, even rape.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “We’re here to welcome the group in. Most of them have been on the run for a long time. They will be untrusting of large groups and confined spaces, such as these.” She motioned to the mountain that surrounded them. “We women have to be the nurturers here.”

  “Nurturers?”

  “These people are frightened, desperate, and flighty. They’ve probably suffered at the hands of the Arachnimen before, so they’ll be afraid of men. We have to calm them, tell them they’re safe, get them to trust us.”

  Maggie nodded. “So we go out and bring them in?”

  “Absolutely not. We stay within the shelter of the mountain at all times. It’s protected by the minds of hundreds of people. The reconnaissance team will bring them in. They’re being chased, so getting them in won’t be hard. But once inside, many of them will rethink their decision and try to get away from us. We have to make them understand that they’re not in danger. Staying is the safest choice. If the Trepids catch them, it’ll be horrible.”

  “Okay. I understand.”

  Maggie looked around and could see what Joan had described taking shape. Many of the people who responded to the alert were carrying blankets, water bottles, and dried food supplies. A dozen people had lined up around the opening to the cave. They had what might have been weapons in their hands, though Maggie couldn’t tell. Karl was directing things.

  “They’re coming!”

  The shout came from a man Maggie didn’t know who stood near the mouth of the cave. Everyone turned towar
d the opening.

  Despite the fact that there were thirty or forty people gathered, the opening was large enough that Maggie had no trouble seeing what was happening.

  The day was gray and overcast, yet the daylight was bright compared to the artificial light of the caves. A flat, grassy area lay just outside the bay. It dipped out of sight a hundred yards away, and Maggie was sure the mountain dropped away just beyond it.

  A ragtag group came into view. Two-dozen people of all ages and both genders were running toward the cave. Most were adults, but there was a handful of young people and four or five children. Their progress was agonizingly slow. Many of them had limps or other injuries, and Maggie wondered how long they’d been fleeing.

  It was easy to pick out the reconnaissance team from among them. Maggie didn’t know how many people constituted such a team, but four people—three men and one woman—were dressed similarly to those who lived in the caves. They were cleaner, moved with more ease, and had an obvious focus on the cave’s opening.

  As they covered the final stretch of land before reaching the cave, the group became strung out. The faster, more able ones reached the cave quickly, while the less agile ones lagged behind. Each person had to make it to the cave themselves, but once inside, they received a barrage of help. The cave dwellers picked them up, escorted them to an out-of-the-way spot, and offered blankets, water, and other comforts.

  Then Maggie saw the Trepids. She immediately understood the name. They looked like Arachnimen but were larger, more formidable. Their faces were darker, but from this distance she couldn’t tell why. Perhaps they were wearing dark paint.

  The reconnaissance team was trying to fight back the Trepids and hurry along those members of the refugee group who were falling behind. It was agony to watch from the cave. Maggie had an overwhelming urge to run out and help them, but no one else was moving, and Joan had warned her not to go.

  When only a few individuals remained outside the cave, the reconnaissance team left them altogether and turned their attention to warding off the Trepids.

  One woman was close to the cave and hauling three children along. She had an infant in one arm and two older children—probably each four or five years old—in the other. Just before she reached the cave, she stopped. There was so much going on that no one noticed her.

  Except Maggie. The woman and her children were within an arm’s reach of safety, and yet she was standing in place, turning in circles and yelling something. The other stragglers passed the woman and entered the cave. The woman and her three children were the only ones other than the reconnaissance team left outside.

  Helpers from the cave called and motioned for her to come in. More Trepids flooded over the rise and crashed down on the reconnaissance team with renewed vigor, hacking and whaling. The fight was becoming more violent, and those in the cave were frantically trying to get the woman’s attention.

  Finally Karl stepped outside the cave—only one enormous step for him—and grabbed the woman by the arm, hauling her and the three children inside.

  The woman became hysterical, screaming, fighting, hitting those that were trying to keep her in place.

  Maggie hurried over to her and put a hand on Karl’s arm. “Please, let me try,” she said.

  Karl stepped away from the hysterical woman.

  Maggie took the woman by the shoulders and turned her firmly so she was looking directly into Maggie’s face. “Ma’am, you are safe here. Please, let us help you.”

  “Not me,” the woman wailed, “my baby. He’s two! He hides when he’s scared. He’s still out there somewhere. I’m not sure how long ago he left my side! Please don’t let those monsters get him!”

  Maggie looked up at Karl, who gulped. No one had stopped to wonder what the woman was searching for. Maggie ran to the edge of the cave, eyes sweeping the mountainside for signs of the lost child.

  The reconnaissance team made it into the cave, sweeping past Maggie and those guarding the opening. Six Trepids lay in her line of vision, cut down by the reconnaissance team. Dozens more were running toward her. Maggie didn’t know how they were going to close up the side of the mountain, but the Trepids were fifty yards away and closing fast.

  Then she saw it—a flash of color in her peripheral vision. She turned her head. It was the top of a tiny head peeping up from behind thick underbrush. It came partially into view then swiveled back and forth for several seconds before the commotion of the Trepids startled it back into hiding again. It was the woman’s son. He must have gotten afraid and hidden in the bushes, but now he couldn’t see his mother.

  “We can’t go back out again,” Karl was saying. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Truly, I am. But we don’t know where your son is. He might have strayed from you a mile back. We have to close up the mountain. If you join us, you may have the opportunity to save your son. But we simply can’t go out looking for him with dozens of Trepids around.”

  Maggie wanted to tell Karl that the boy was there, not twenty yards from the opening, but the Trepids were closing too quickly. The boy was half the distance between them and the cave, and they weren’t slowing down. Explanations would take precious seconds they didn’t have.

  Suddenly, one of the Trepids—a giant of a man with swinging jowls and a crooked nose—broke off from the main group and made a beeline for the bush. He’d spotted the child.

  Maggie didn’t think, she just reacted. She lunged into the clearing, vaguely registering voices calling her name from behind.

  Her feet barely touched the ground as she zipped across the field and skidded into the knee-high bush. From the other side two frightened, tear-filled eyes peered up at her.

  She knew the child would probably be afraid of her, but she didn’t have time to consider it. Bending at the waist, she hefted the little boy up, over the shrub, and into her arms then spun on her toe to run back to the shelter of the mountain.

  It wasn’t that simple. In the time it had taken her to reach the boy, the Trepids had closed their distance to the bush. They were almost on top of her.

  Maggie ran, knowing she wouldn’t make it, and got all of ten feet before huge, vice-like fingers closed around her elbow. In one movement, the man whipped her around to face him and knocked her onto her backside. The weight of the child falling on top of her drove the air from her lungs.

  Now that she was right next to the Trepids, there was no denying it: they were bigger than the Arachnimen she and Marcus escaped from. This man stood well over six feet tall with tree trunks for legs and boulders for arms. He could probably kill Maggie with his bare hands without even breathing hard.

  She could also see why their faces had looked darker from a distance. The Arachnimen had spider web tattoos over their eyes. The round, web part had covered their orbits with only bare strings stretching out over their faces. These Trepids had much larger webs that covered most of their features. The man she was looking at had strange symbols tattooed where lines of webbing came together and gems encrusted at certain junctures. He had an earring in his right ear that looked like the one the Arachniman who had attacked Maggie in her home had worn—only this one had a dot both below the X and to the right of it.

  Maggie didn’t have time to think about what it all meant. Her right hand moved frantically over the earth, searching for a weapon.

  I have to find one, she thought. I will. I will! Her palm closed over a smooth, round rock, perfectly fitted to the curve of her hand.

  The boy was not fighting Maggie now. He was facing into her chest, legs wrapped around her waist, tiny fingernails digging into the back of her neck.

  The Trepid put one Godzilla foot on Maggie’s knee, letting his entire weight rest there so she had no chance of twisting away. He reached down and gathered a handful of the boy’s shirt.

  Maggie held her rock with one hand and the boy with the other. When the Trepid tried to yank the boy out of her grasp, she twisted her hip, arced her arm, and used the upward momentum of the man’s own pull to
swing around and clock him in the cheek with the donut-sized rock. She felt more than heard the faint clacking sound, like plastic fence slats bumping together, and knew she had shattered his cheekbone.

  Her blow didn’t knock him down, but he staggered backward, clutching his cheek in surprise. The second he let go of her, Maggie twisted around onto her hands and knees and crawled away. The boy was clinging to her, which left her free to use her hands to push up from the ground. She gained her feet and ran toward the cave again.

  Before she got far, an immense weight thudded into the back of her calves. Her knees buckled, and she was grateful that the blow had been below her knees, which allowed her to catch herself on her hands rather than landing on top of the tiny, terrified child.

  Strong hands grabbed her waist, sausage-like fingers digging into the tender skin of her sides, and flipped her over. It was the same man she’d just hit. He’d taken her down with a flying tackle.

  Maggie pushed the little boy over her head toward the caves, knowing if he stayed between her and her attacker he was going to be hurt. She’d dropped the rock after getting away the first time and now had no weapon.

  The man closed one massive hand around her neck and pulled her toward him. His other hand went behind him like a slingshot winding up. If he hit her she’d lose consciousness. She could be killed, raped, taken hostage, or absorbed by the collective. At the very least the child wouldn’t be saved. She couldn’t allow that to happen, so she couldn’t allow him to hit her.

  She kicked her legs and twisted her body; she whaled on him with her fists and connected a few times near his groin, but it did no good. It was like kicking a boulder and hoping the mountain would move.

  Darkness came in from the sides of her vision like curtains. Weakness seeped into her arms and legs, and she knew she was losing.

  Through the hazy, opaque net that was her vision, she saw her attacker look at the caves behind her in surprise. Then he let go.

  The impact of her shoulder blades hitting the ground was jarring, even though she’d only been a few inches above the earth. A reflex in her diaphragm spasmed, and she inhaled air sharply. Her throat was instantly raw and throbbing.

  Another pair of legs was standing over her, but it was not her attacker. This person had his back to her and was jolting back and forth, blocking and slashing at the Trepid. Maggie knew who it was without seeing his face.

  Rolling onto her side, she pulled her knees into a fetal position before looking toward the cave. The little boy was still sitting three feet from her head. His head was in his lap, elbows over his ears and tears streaming down his face. Despite the weakness that had expanded like gas to fill every part of her body, Maggie dragged herself toward the child and gathered him into her arms. He collapsed against her, clutching her with tiny, trembling hands.

  Only then did Maggie turn to watch Marcus fight. He was not the only one. A group of eight men had come out of the cave to Maggie’s rescue. Karl was the only other one she recognized, but they were all large men; they had to be to take the Trepids on.

  A flat, gray rock rested against their palms and was secured by some kind of elastic that stretched across the back of the hand. While Marcus traded blows with Maggie’s attacker, he kept aiming the flat rock at the man. She wondered if it was some kind of weapon.

  Marcus also had a large stick. He held it like a walking staff but didn’t use it to fight. The Trepid swiped at Marcus with a knife, but Marcus ducked under the Trepid’s arm and slammed the flat of his foot into the back of the Trepid’s knee. The man went down. With the upper hand, Marcus brought his elbow back and drove the palm of his hand—and the flat rock—into the Trepid’s forehead. Maggie could feel the energy of the impact from where she sat. Something about the blow told her it was a killing one.

  It occurred to her that the flat rocks allowed the wearer to channel enough energy to kill a person with their bare hands. The thought made her shiver.

  Marcus’s chest heaved as the man hit the ground. The cave dwellers had bested the first wave of Trepids, but more were coming toward them, appearing over the rise a hundred yards away. They were pouring in by the dozens.

  A hand grabbed Maggie’s shoulder, and she turned to find Joan staring down at her.

  “Maggie, are you deaf? Come on. Back to the mountain. Hurry!”

  Maggie had been sitting in one place for several minutes. She now followed Joan to the safety of the cave, berating herself for not moving earlier.

  Once there, Maggie placed the little boy into the grateful arms of his mother. When the boy saw who he was being handed to, his chest shuddered and heaved anew, and fresh tears flooded his cheeks while he plastered himself to his mother’s neck. She was led away, and Maggie whirled to see what was happening outside.

  Joan closed a hand around Maggie’s wrist, anchoring her to the spot. Maggie hadn’t intended to run back out—she didn’t think—but what happened next she wasn’t prepared for.

  The men with Marcus had fallen back, leaving him out in front of them before the oncoming Trepids. The ground was littered with those they’d already killed, but the approaching wave of violence was gargantuan in comparison. Maggie’s heart quickened with fear, and she wondered what they would do. Marcus, standing twenty feet ahead of the others, still holding that wooden staff, would surely be crushed.

  He stood perfectly still, staff in hand, as dozens of Trepids rushed toward him. It was an army coming toward him like a moving wall. The other cave dwellers were taking slow, tentative steps backward toward the cave.

  “Joan, what’s he…?”

  Joan still held fast to Maggie’s wrist, but she gave Maggie a reassuring look.

  With the Trepids less than ten feet from him, Marcus finally moved. He hefted the staff in his left hand, tossing it up a few inches so he could get hold of it farther down. Then he took a knee while slamming the staff into the ground. He timed it perfectly so that his knee and the butt of the staff hit the ground at the same time.

  The wave of energy that radiated out from him was unlike anything Maggie had ever felt. It came up from the ground, through her shoes, and into her body, spiking her heart rate and making her skeleton vibrate against her flesh. The very mountain quivered as if from a seismic aftershock.

  It was a similar sensation to the one she’d felt when running across the field the day before, when they’d come through time. It wasn’t exactly the same, but similar. Everything was moving in slow motion; the power radiating from Marcus had caught and absorbed everything around him. His warped bubble of energy had trapped them all, and for only a heartbeat, connected them…

  A pair of boots moving across the ground at eye level.

  Maggie couldn’t move. Her mind was reeling, but she couldn’t make her fingers obey her brain. She didn’t know what had happened, but fear lay over her chest like a restraint. Everything was blank—or almost. Everything she knew—everything she was—was slipping through her fingers, and she had no way to stop it. She couldn’t even move.

  But that was what the woman said would happen, hadn’t she? What had her name been?

  A pair of brown boots walked across her field of vision. They were walking directly in front of her eyes, though at a slightly askew angle. She was lying on the floor.

  The boots turned so the person they belonged to was looking at her. After an almost imperceptible pause, they ran toward her. The legs fell into a squat, and she could see a torso—obviously a man’s. Then she was looking at the ceiling.

  Marcus’s face came into view. He had a black eye and his question mark scar seemed fresher. His mouth was moving, but it was like someone had hit the mute button. Focusing on his lips, Maggie realized he was saying her name. She could feel his hands on her shoulders, squeezing and shaking.

  “Maggie,” his mouth was saying. “Maggie, are you okay?”

  But even her ability to move her eyeballs was receding. She forced them away from his lips and to his eyes. If she remembered anythin
g, she wanted it to be his eyes.

  She screamed his name in her mind. He was slipping away from her. Everything he—they—were was leaving her, and she was powerless to stop it. She had a sensation of sobbing, but her body was paralyzed, so it was only her soul weeping. Her memories, her identity was fading. She was slipping into oblivion.

  Marcus’s arms were under her now, lifting her. Joan came into her view, but everything else was blurring out.

  Where was she? What was this strange place? Who were these people?

  Marcus!

  Vertigo made Maggie step back with one leg to catch herself. It was like a dream where you feel like you’re falling until you kick yourself awake. The instant her foot hit the ground, the dizziness was gone, and then there was only silence in the cave and Joan holding Maggie’s hand, looking at her speculatively.

  Maggie looked out to where the battle had taken place. Her mouth dropped open. All the Trepids who’d been coming—every single one of them, and there must have been close to a hundred—had fallen to the ground. The utter silence made Maggie’s breathing sound loud, and she knew they were all dead. He’d killed them all.

  People began moving and talking around her in the cave, but Maggie took no notice until Joan turned Maggie firmly to face her.

  “Are you all right, Maggie? Anything broken?”

  Maggie shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “You’ve got finger marks on your throat. How’s your breathing?”

  “Fine.”

  Joan looked skeptical but said nothing else. When Maggie’s eyes went back to what was happening outside, Joan followed her gaze.

  Marcus hadn’t gotten up. Two men—one was Karl—had put a shoulder under Marcus’s arms and were hauling him toward the mouth of the cave. Marcus was trying to walk, but his feet were dragging through the grass.

  They brought him inside and set him gently on the ground. Maggie squatted down beside him. His body slumped, his chin on his heaving chest.

  “We’ve got to get this door shut,” Karl called as soon as he set Marcus down. “More are bound to show up, and Marcus is out of commission.”

  People moved to the cave door. It comprised an entire wall of the cavern, so they stood with hands on the adjacent walls as close to the opening as they could get. They shut their eyes and placed their palms against the rock. When room ran out, others simply put their hands on the shoulders or arms of those touching the stone. They also shut their eyes.

  Maggie could feel the energy they were calling on. It was different from the wave she’d felt when Marcus and his staff hit the earth. That had been urgent, powerful, overwhelming. There was still a power to this, but it was steady, calm, expectant, and well controlled.

  With a rush of air, the cavern was suddenly whole—completely entombed in rock and no longer open to the outside world. Maggie looked over to where only seconds before daylight and wind had been streaming in. Now there was only a thick wall of stone.

  The magnitude of what had just happened—her own brush with death, the child, the monstrous men, the dead bodies on the other side of the rock, the way these people lived, the awesome power of it all—hit her with such force that it took her breath away. She clapped a hand over her mouth and let her weight fall heavily to the ground, her body wracked with sobs and tears spilling over her cheeks.

  A hand rested heavily on her shoulder, and she turned her head. Marcus was looking at her. It probably took all his energy to do so, but his gaze was penetrating, now more than ever.

  “It’s all right, Maggie,” he whispered between deep breaths. “Everything’s okay.”

  “Are you okay?” she sobbed.

  He nodded. “Just exhausted. But I’ll be fine.”

  “Of course he will.” Karl’s booming voice behind her made her jump. “But we should get him to Doc, just to be safe.”

  Karl hoisted Marcus up again. Maggie watched them disappear around a crusty stalactite. Marcus wasn’t making much effort to walk anymore.

  “You too, Maggie,” Joan said, taking Maggie’s arm and pulling her to her feet. “I want Doc to check you out.”

  Maggie wiped her eyes. “Joan.” She looked at the blunt rock wall that obscured the battleground from view. “Did Marcus just kill a hundred men and save us all?”

  Joan’s eyes slid sideways as she considered. “Pretty much. Yeah.”

  Maggie passed a weary arm over her face. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but why isn’t he the protector?”

  Joan chuckled behind her hand.

   

  Half an hour later, Maggie was in an area of Interchron everyone referred to simply as Medical. Several of the individuals who had arrived were injured and needed attention. A frenzy of activity buzzed around the room for the first twenty minutes Maggie was there, but Joan stayed close to her, holding her hand.

  Finally Doc made his way to her.

  “Maggie, are you hurt?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I wanted her to be checked out, Doc,” Joan said. “She was a bit overwhelmed by what happened.”

  Doc nodded. “That’s to be expected, I suppose, but I heard you were knocked down by one of the Trepids. Did you really run out of the cave to get a child?”

  Maggie nodded. Both Doc and Joan gave her annoyed looks, and she shrugged.

  Doc shook his head, the corners of his mouth turning up. “Well, it’s nice to see that you’re still exactly the same person.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “You were always doing insane things like that before. But hold still. Let me make sure you’re okay.”

  With one hand on the smooth gray rock he’d used before, Doc closed his eyes. She felt a tingle of energy run through her and knew it was his scan. The scan took longer than before.

  When Doc opened his eyes, he was frowning. “How do you feel, Maggie?”

  “Fine. A bit weak. Why? Is something wrong?”

  He gave her a reassuring—albeit tight—smile. “Probably not. Just something strange—a spark of energy in your brain that I can’t quite identify. But if you feel okay, I’m sure it’s nothing. Just adrenaline or something.”

  Maggie had debated over how much to tell everyone. “Doc, what part of my brain is this energy in?”

  “That’s what’s strange. It’s in the part that houses memory.”

  Maggie’s heartbeat quickened. She kept trying to tell herself that what she’d seen was just a hallucination—sparked by the information overload she’d had in the last two days. But if what Doc was saying was true…

  “Maggie, what is it?” Doc leaned forward and took her hands.

  Maggie hesitated. “Doc, how’s Marcus? Is he going to be okay?”

  Doc sat back, frowning at her change of subject. “Yes. When he—that is, what he…did takes a lot of energy. He’s not injured, but he’ll probably sleep for eighteen hours. It’s a matter of recuperation.”

  “What was it that he did?”

  Doc and Joan exchanged glances, but Maggie was not going to volunteer any information until they explained. She folded her arms and jutted out her chin.

  Doc sighed. “Marcus is the Healer, Maggie, but that is only one of his unique gifts. He has the ability to seek out and find anything he needs in the universe.”

  “Anything…like what?”

  “It’s what makes him a great Healer. In any situation, the energy needed for whatever task a person is performing exists somewhere in the universe. Marcus can…send his mind out, if you will, to search for it. He identifies what he needs and brings it to him. He has the ability to assess exactly what kind of energy an injured person needs and how much he needs in order to heal the injury they have. He does all this instantaneously, with greater ease than anyone I’ve ever met. That’s what he did today.”

  “Are you saying that he reached out to the universe and found the energy he needed to kill?”

  Joan squeezed Maggie’s hand. “Don’t think of it so negatively, Ma
ggie. Marcus wouldn’t have. Most likely he thought of needing the energy to protect all of us.”

  “Yes.” Doc nodded. “He pulled in the energy he needed and unleashed it on the enemy. He did it with such power and force that they died instantly. All of them.”

  “But how could he target specific people? Members of the reconnaissance team were out there with him. All of us in the cave were only yards from him.”

  Doc shook his head. “You’re thinking too linearly. It’s not a matter of who he could see. He simply felt and identified all the malevolent energy that existed close by. The energy he called to him obliterated all of it within a mile’s radius. There were probably dozens of Trepids still making their way up the mountainside—many we couldn’t see yet—but he was able to decimate them all based on their neural signatures.”

  “What was the staff for?”

  “All organic things—things that are or once were alive—have a powerful energy of their own. Plants are second only to animals and humans in the power they engender. Marcus was using the staff as a conduit to focus and streamline the energy. It was simply a tool.”

  Maggie nodded, but the whole thing seemed bleak. This explanation did nothing to explain her flashback.

  “Maggie, what is it? What aren’t you saying?”

  Maggie looked from Doc to Joan and back again. She was afraid of what she’d seen, but she had no reason not to tell them.

  “I saw something.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When the shockwave, or whatever you call it, from his…energy hit me, I saw something. In my head.”

  Doc’s brows had furrowed, and Joan was looking at Maggie with concern.

  “What did you see, Maggie?”

  “I…I think it was a memory. I think it was from what happened before—when we were in the ships and I…was captured.”

  Doc’s eyes had gotten continuously wider as she spoke. Now they looked like tiny rotating planets. “Maggie, that’s not possible,” he whispered.

  Maggie shrugged. “Okay. I don’t know what it was, but now you’re telling me there’s something strange going on in the part of my brain that deals with memory.”

  “You’re memories can’t come back. They aren’t present in your brain to come back.”

  Maggie nodded. “Only Marcus can tell me if what I saw really happened. He was the only one there.”

  “Doc,” Joan said, “if it was a memory she saw, how could that have happened? Could someone else be planting it there?”

  “I don’t see how. It is doable, but she would have experienced intense pain upon the intrusion into her mind.” He looked at Maggie, eyebrow raised.

  Maggie shook her head. “No pain. Only a rush of images.”

  Doc nodded. “Maggie, I want you to write down everything you remember. You’ll have to forgive me if I’m afraid it might leave you again.”

  “Doc, I feel exactly the same way.”

  He gave her a brief smile. “When Marcus wakes up, we’ll ask him about it.”