Dominion

  “You bastard. Why don’t you die?” I spat.

  “Why don’t you get up and kill me, boy? He smiled. “Oh, too bad. You’re a cripple now. Aren’t going anywhere, are you?”

  I lunged for him and the red man easily kept me from the Colonel’s face.

  “Feel a little peckish, Dantan?” He grinned. “We have you on a mild dose of an experimental drug called tetradex. Made from the puffer fish. It paralyzes the muscles so every movement is like lifting a car. Except for breathing, it doesn’t affect that like curare. Of course, you won’t be going anywhere on your own without legs or a wheelchair.”

  “Where are we? Who is the shit head who shot his own dog?” I snarled. I cast my thoughts out and before I could even blink, he had me tight in his net. I couldn’t even squirm. “You’re like me!” I gasped.

  “No, I’m not. I’m trained as a shaman. I can latch onto spirit and hold it, I can’t read your mind,” he said. “My name is Sam Kolachi, I’m Shoshone.”

  “You work for the NSA?”

  “I work for whoever pays me. Colonel Pierce is only one of my employers.”

  “Where are we?”

  “Just over the border in Mexico,” he answered carelessly. “On a ranch, 100 miles from anywhere. No dogs, cats or birds around.”

  “Doesn’t matter how far away I am,” I said. “I can still reach one.”

  “No, you can’t. Not as long as I have you bound by my witchcraft,” Kolachi said. “I hold your spirit in my web. Until I release you or break the web, you can do nothing.”

  I tried again, splitting myself into a dozen spears, the most I’d ever attempted. Like an arrow, I flew through the distance only to hit a barrier of glass and bounce off. I fell stunned and I looked up at his face. I felt as if a ton of books had landed on my chest, I could barely lift my ribs to breathe. He waited until I could speak. “What are you going to do to me? What do you want from me? How are you going to make me work for you?”

  “Danny, with one little needle, I can make you a complete quadriplegic. I can blind you, deafen you and leave you only your voice, but you’d still be able to travel in your head, still tell us what we want to know. I can go after your father and your girlfriend, your friends and the agents. Everyone you love.”

  I screamed in defiance, futility, and despair. “I’ll kill myself first chance I get!” I promised. “They already think I’m dead!”

  “We won’t let you, Danny. Now, tell me. Is there anyone else that can do what you can do?”

  “I’ve never found anyone else, except my uncle and he’s dead.” I said. Not that I’d looked. The only one who even came close was Felice.

  “Your first task is to search the world for others like you,” he said. “Then, the Colonel wants you to reach these people. He’s looking for something called the Orion Project.”

  “Right now?”

  “You have somewhere else to go?”

  “I’m hungry. I need the restroom.”

  “You’re wearing adult diapers. You can eat when you’ve worked.”

  “What time is it?” There wasn’t a clock in the room, just the bed I was on, two chairs and the window. A fan overhead. No TV, phone, or even electrical outlets. The walls were rough white plaster – adobe.

  “11 AM.”

  “What day?”

  “Wednesday.”

  “Wed – Wednesday after Thanksgiving?” Holy crap, I’d lost nearly a week.

  “December 2, Danny. You should have seen the furor over your unfortunate cremation incident. Your funeral was…impressive. The Presidential Medal of Honor. Care to tell us how you did that?”

  “You’ll both rot in hell for what you did to my father and Felice,” I said wearily. “How do I search if you’ve blocked me?”

  “I’ll go with you, point you in certain directions where there are rumors.”

  I felt him pick me up in his head and I was able to fly as he hitchhiked on my back. It wasn’t like when Felice came with me, he couldn’t reach inside my thoughts, more like he held my head in his hands and pointed me like a gun. Distance meant nothing until we reached halfway across the world, touching lightly on the minds of wolf, bear, snow owl and snow leopard. I sensed surprise, and he felt it too, pointed me at the glowing beacon of blue light I found in the darkness of the city. A bright spark that was stunted somehow yet he could hear me.

  “Hello, Keegan,” I said to the mind that resonated almost like mine. The images were in Russian, and although I didn’t understand the words, I could the pictures. Yet, this mind was infantile, developmentally delayed. Great portions of it were devoid of function, retarded and unable to compete in the everyday world. I couldn’t access it, or see through his eyes or hear, he was just too badly brain-damaged. Left him, and continued. Could reach no further, was stopped by distance, and the vast expanse of the Siberian plains.

  Came back to the bedroom to find hours had passed. I was exhausted. My chest hurt, my jaws ached and I had a migraine. No one was in the room with me. I slipped into my own thoughts and searched for Felice to see if I could sneak a thought to her. Slammed into a brick wall and my head burst into flames. Thought I was burning to ash. Cried out. Begged for relief, and he was there in the flames laughing at me. Slowly, the fires died, popped out and I looked down at myself to see perfectly normal skin, not blackened flesh.

  “Care to try again, Dantan? The thing about pain in your mind is that you feel it exquisitely but it does no physical damage to your body. So I can do it endlessly, until your mind breaks.

  “We know brainwashing didn’t work on you so this is what’s left. You can make it easier on yourself by cooperating. Now, let’s try the other side of the continent. When I’m satisfied, we’ll stop.”

  “Then I can eat?”

  “No. For your foolish attempt to contact who ever, you’ll forgo lunch and dinner.”

  He made me search until midnight. By then, I was so exhausted I was barely coherent. I think I soiled and wet myself. I couldn’t feel it but from the smell, I was pretty sure of it. My stomach hurt so bad I wanted to throw up, but there wasn’t anything in it to throw up. He left me lying in my own filth and in minutes, I cried myself into a fitful sleep.

  Chapter 42

  Days went by. Weeks. Maybe even months. I wasn’t sure and was so lost in my head. I searched through so many minds; I wasn’t sure who I was anymore. Found traces of only two minds like mine besides the young dude in Russia. One was in India and belonged to a holy man. He felt my ham-handed probing and politely but firmly blocked me so I couldn’t get any images of him or his identity. The other was a teenager in Brazil, and he was lost in the throes of a coke addiction, even crazier than I was.

  Still, I reported all to the witch doctor and he made notes, forcing me to keep going. We found out my range was close to 5000 miles and water affected that more than mountains. Even if I leapfrogged into a bird, distance mattered. It was easier if I knew the area, had seen it or been in that particular animal before. The Colonel had me visit both Sassy, Dusty and the falcon at least every other day. Even Vange, the Blue Heeler. Strangely, only the falcon was still with the owner, the dogs were never in the same room as their masters but relegated to empty bedroom, kitchen, or kennel.

  Frustrated, the Colonel had hit me, accused me of hiding things from him. Kolachi let him. I blinked back tears of pain and rage. His Air Force ring had opened a gash on my cheek under my eye and blood splattered on my chin, down onto my sweat shorts. They made me wear shorts so they could mock my shrunken legs. At least they’d been tanned. One of his favorite punishments was to push me out into the front yard, tip my chair over and watch me crawl through the blistering sand by my arms so I could reach the shade of the porch. Sometimes, I made it. Other times it was so far, I lacked the strength and laid there as the sun roasted me. I burned and the sunburn was worse on my legs. Great strips of skin peeled off and made me sick for days.

  I had to take care of my own body functions and knew I
wasn’t doing a good job by the smell. Sweat, crap, pee and something sickly sweet filled my nostrils. I complained to the Colonel, and begged him to look, afraid of pressure sores turning to gangrenous ulcers. When he did examine me, his face turned green. The next day a quiet dark-haired and dark eyed woman appeared and doctored me. She understood my Spanish but wouldn’t answer my questions. Treated me with antibiotics, ointments and changed my mattress to an air-filled one. Put me on an IV of fluids, and something in it that made me float.

  I asked her name and she made no reply but only lifted her mouth to show me a stump of a tongue. Cut out. I wanted to search her thoughts, but hesitated, afraid of the fire. So I stayed out.

  She took over cooking, too. Preparing easy to eat food like tacos, fried plantain and goat. She told me in written Spanish her name was Magdalena and she had been a nurse in Mexico City fired for stealing drugs. Her tongue was pulled out by Federales with pliers and she lost her job, but she kept her life. She wouldn’t tell me where we were or if there was a phone outside. I was grateful that she took care of me at all.

  The Colonel was gone most of the time, I never heard him leave or arrive. I didn’t know if he came in by vehicle or plane. Most of the time, I spent in the room, staring at the walls until the day she put me on IVs. The next four days I lay in the dark, suffering from a fever and diarrhea, which made my sores worse. At least I couldn’t feel them. He came in and watched me as she rolled me on my stomach, cleaned me up, and treated the wounds. His voice was quiet. “How bad is it, Lena?”

  She turned her head away from me and made a gesture I couldn’t see. I was shivering even in the heat of the room. She left me on my stomach.

  “Dantan, how do you feel?” My answer made no sense to him or me. I think I said locomotive, trains were rushing through my head, steam engines, coal-fired, the bullet train and Mag lev. Casey Jones and HO scale. Mini tracks to Silverton. Train trestles. The runaway engine in that movie. Where the two tracks meet, East Coast and West. Golden spike. Gateway to the West. Missouri, Union Pacific. Spoke, “access is limited to the General Director. Orion is now functioning. Online and scanning. Four hours should bring in a dozen variables. Have a team on standby.

  “I don’t care what General Salinkov said. We are not increasing the forces in Chechnya.

  “The American economy is staggering. We must lower our cost per barrel to under one hundred dollars US, especially if they start buying from Iran.

  “Our two men have reached Pakistan with enough cash to purchase the stock of US defense chips out of Amphenol.

  “I took her out yesterday; she got two hares and killed a dozen doves. Isn’t she marvelous?”

  “Dantan, stop,” the red-skinned man stilled my wandering thoughts. He made the noises in my head go away. “Danny, sleep. You’re sick. Feverish, jumping from mind to mind.”

  I had a headache. Bit my pillow and worried it. Whispered, “water. Please.”

  The man lifted me in his arms, and fed me sip by sip until I finished the cup. “More?”

  “Why don’t you let me die?” I asked, my eyes closed. I slipped back into my fevered dreams.

  Chapter 43

  I dreamed I was walking with Felice through the rose gardens in full bloom. The smell was heady, almost overpowering and bees buzzed overhead, pollinating the flowers. The air was slightly muggy, a faint breeze carrying the scent of the river over the flowers. She was wearing shorts and a skimpy T-shirt that barely covered her belly. My hand was in hers, I brought it around to look at her right ring finger. She wore an engagement ring with two one-carat stones, a deep blue sapphire and a chocolate diamond. Both matched my eyes and were surrounded by small stones that looked like white diamonds.

  “It’s pretty,” I admired. She held it out. “You designed it to match my eyes?”

  “So I could remember you, Danny,” she said sadly. “I remember you every day.”

  “I’m right here, Felice. Walking with you.”

  “You’re in my dreams, Danny. In my heart. I’ll never forget you.” She let go of my hand and patted the head of the dog, Vange as she came to the fishpond and sat on the bench. I stood in front of her, touched her knee and it was the dog’s nose that reached her, not my hand.

  “Felice, I’m here. Me. Dantan. Why can’t you see me or hear me? I’m not dead, Felice. Come and get me. I need your help.”

  She hugged the Heeler and her sadness was so palpable, I could feel it. I wanted to hug her and comfort her, but I couldn’t even reach the dog. Slowly, they faded and my awareness increased to see that I was waking up in my room to early morning.

  The sun came in the window bright enough to make the dust motes glimmer like diamonds and heat the room beyond the ability of the fan to cool it. I was thirsty and sweating. Called out and both of them came in after a while.

  She pulled me up, checked my disposable and emptied the urine bag. I hadn’t realized she’d put a catheter in me and was worried about my kidneys and dehydration. She gave me two glasses of water. He asked me if I remembered the last three days and I shook my head. “Dreams. I had weird dreams.”

  “You were rambling. In Arabic, Russian, French and Farsi. I recorded it for the Colonel. You mentioned Orion.”

  “I did? What’s Orion?”

  “I don’t know. Just that he’s interested in it.”

  “He must be paying you very well, Witch Doctor,” I said wearily. “For you to be stuck here with me in this hellhole for weeks.”

  “Months, Dantan. You’ve been here for seven months.”

  My cry was of pain and despair. After seven months and no one was even looking for me.

  “You have no concept of time when you’re under. The longest I’ve had you travel was a week. We don’t do that anymore, that’s when your skin broke down and you got really ill. Ms. Rojas has been battling the fever and infection since. I told the Colonel, he said to continue, but I made him lay off for the last two weeks.”

  “What day is this?”

  “June 30, Tuesday.”

  “Do I get July 4 off?”

  “No fireworks here, Danny.”

  “I missed my birthday. I turned twenty. You think I’ll make it to twenty-one, Witch Doctor?”

  “Are you hungry?” He asked instead.

  “Peanut butter and jelly. On white bread.”

  “Sorry. None here. I can ask the Colonel to bring some next time he’s here.”

  “He’s gone?”

  “He flew to Rio. Looking for that other one you mentioned. “

  “He’s a crackhead. Won’t get you anywhere.” I looked at Magdalena. Asked her in Spanish if she had food ready for me. She nodded, went out and returned with a bowl of soup, beans with chunks of meat, peppers and tortillas. Fed me slowly, carefully until I ate the whole thing.

  I winced as pain stabbed me in the back and chest. Leaned back against the headboard, looked at the IVs and lines in me. He let me sleep.

  The Colonel came back that night and I heard them discussing me. The Witch Doctor was arguing vehemently, and Pierce’s replies were equally hot, the end result was that the Witch Doctor put me in my chair, wheeled me outside in the cool of the evening and out back where I saw a four-wheel-drive Jeep. He loaded me into the back seat and drove off with Magdalena in the passenger seat. I was stiff with fear and relief. I thought they’d finally decided to get rid of me.

  “Are you going to shoot me, Witch Doctor or leave me out here to burn? Starve to death or die of thirst?” I asked in a tiny voice leaning into the shoulder belt.

  “None of the above, Dantan. Now, shut up.”

  “Where’s the Colonel?”

  “It’s a long drive, Dantan, go to sleep.” He was brusque and she turned around to smile at me. I’d never seen her smile; the sight filled me with trepidation. After two hours of sun, sand and bouncing, I fell asleep.

  Chapter 44

  She woke me with a gentle slap on the cheek; he carried me out of the car and held me up so I coul
d pee. I watched the urine hit the sand and drain instantly. She opened wet wipes and after a few minutes of straining, wiped me off. Pulled up my shorts and sat me in the Jeep.

  “Thirsty?”

  “Where’s the Colonel?”

  “At the ranch.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’re full of questions.”

  “Well, I’d like to know what my life expectancy is, Witch Doctor. I might want to write my autobiography. It’d be nice to know how many pages I need. Minutes? Hours?”

  “If I was going to off you, Danny,” he said irritably. “I would’ve done it at the ranch. There’s a nice graveyard outback.”

  I shut up. He got back in and continued. The sand became gravel; gravel turned to caliche and paved roads. Signs pointing to Mexico City. My eyes widened, but I kept silent.

  He drove through town and let her off in the barrio. She kissed me, held my ears and patted my face. Said Bueno Suerta in gurgles that I barely understood. He drove off and left her standing there, waving back at me. We drove to the airport. He parked in front of the terminals by the taxis and pulled the wheelchair out of the back, opened it and carried me to it. He gave me a handful of pesos tucking them into my waistband. I stared at him with wondering eyes.

  “Dammit,” he said roughly. “Get the hell out of here.” I spun my chair around and pushed for all I was worth heading inside the terminal. Looking around, I tried to find some sign of American help. Saw the red, white and blue of immigration and headed for it, my mouth dry and my insides churning.

  The woman behind the counter had weary eyes and stared at me. “Can I help you?” She asked in Spanish.

  I broke down sobbing. She came around the counter with a man in uniform and knelt at my side. “It’ll be all right,” she murmured in Spanish and I heaved for breath finally getting words out she could understand.

  “I’m American,” I sobbed. “American! I was kidnapped! Please, help me get home.”

  “What’s your name, honey?” She switched to English.

  “Danny. Danny De Rosier. My Dad is Senator Michael Patrick De Rosier. My Social Security number is 639 – 52 – 8291. His phone number is 222 – 555 – 1505.”

  “Who kidnapped you? How did you get here? Do you need medical attention?”

  “Yes. Please, call my Dad. He thinks I’m dead.” I grabbed her hands. “I’m not lying. Please, please. Help me please.”