––––––––
No one moved.
"Someone call 911. I've got a couple of boo-boos."
Everyone pulled out their cell phones at the same time, but only two of them made a call. Three others started snapping pictures of us. This would be all over the news soon. Someone would probably be making fun of me on the FAIL blog within twenty minutes.
I grabbed onto the railing and struggled to pull myself to my feet. Beyond the onlookers I could see Nami and Sammy standing by the lobby doors, looking back at me.
"Ash!" Sammy yelled. They both ran towards me, Nami trailing behind because of her short stride.
Is this guy a cop?
Those dudes are messed up!
Why is he dressed like a male stripper?
Look at the fun bags on her!
Voices burst through my mental defenses and started flooding my mind. The punishment I just received had weakened me so much that I couldn't stop them from coming through. There were so many people in the hotel that the echoes overpowered me. The throbbing in my head increased until it felt like it might explode. My eyes lost focus as I swayed on my good leg.
This is the worst selection of hotel porn I've ever seen.
Nice view we have here, right into a brick wall.
It's ok to drink rum and diet coke because it has no carbs, right?
I bit down hard on my tongue, hoping the pain would give me something to concentrate on. It worked, a little. The debilitating effect abated a little as the voices dampened.
Nami and Sammy stopped when they were close enough to see the damage Chuck had done to me. Sammy put a hand to her face, covering her gaping mouth.
"Dude, you look like the Elephant Man." Nami looked down at Chuck. "You won? Maybe you aren't such a bitch after all."
"Thanks, Norma." I reached a hand up to Sammy. "My knee is wrecked. Can you give me some help walking out of here?"
"This is so gross," she said as she carefully stepped over Chuck's body. She put my left arm over her shoulders and took some of the weight off my battered leg. My hand brushed against her boob as I shifted my stance, but the horrible aches in my body didn't allow me to enjoy it.
A swarm of thoughts threw me off balance, almost pulling both of us over. I pressed my free hand against my forehead, fighting to keep my mind clear.
"What is it, Ash?" Sammy asked.
"We need to get out of here. I'm losing control of my ability. I can't block out what people are thinking."
As we moved from the elevator I turned my head to the biggest guy standing by the doors and told him to find some zip ties or rope.
"He'll be waking up shortly and you'll want him to be restrained until the police show up."
We didn't wait for a response as we shuffled through the lobby. No one tried to stop us, or offer assistance. The receptionist standing behind the counter looked back and forth from us to the elevator, too afraid to say anything. Her fear pulsed through me, making it even harder for me to walk despite Sammy's help. I tried to block it out, but couldn't muster the strength.
The sounds of sirens drifted closer as we pushed our way through the double doors and into the parking lot. Sammy dragged me along as best she could. What little strength I had left was evaporating as I fought against the deluge of voices pressing against me.
Nami waited at the edge of the parking lot. "Would you guys hurry up?"
"Nirvana, see if you can get us a car or a cab or something. We can't be here when the cops arrive. If they stop us, the world is going to go to hell really fast."
"Call me by my real name, damn it! What do you mean the world is going to shit if we get arrested?" she asked as she pulled her backpack off and held it in front of her.
I needed to explain everything I'd seen in Chuck's memories, but now wasn't the time.
"Get us out of here and I'll explain on the way."
"Fine, boss around the small one."
She turned and walked to a silver Ford Explorer that was parked in the fire lane, the engine still running. The top of her head didn't even come close to reaching the bottom of the window. A balding man with rosy cheeks sat in the car, waiting for someone to come out of the hotel. He smiled when he saw her approaching.
Nami put on her best pouty expression, thrusting her lower lip out. She held her bag up to her chin, her left hand inside it. With her getup and stature she looked all over ten years old.
"I can't find my mommy or daddy!" she cried.
"It's okay, little girl, we'll find them. Where did you lose them? What about their phone, do you know that?" He looked down at the passenger seat, looking for his phone.
As he turned away, Nami lowered her hands and pulled out the Desert Eagle she had taken from Chuck. It looked like a howitzer in her tiny grip as she pointed it in the window.
"Out of the car, poop dick," she said. Her voice, still tiny and high pitched, had lost its desperate tone.
"What did you say—" he said as he turned back to her. The color drained out of his cheeks when he saw the gun. "I don't understand. What's going on?"
"I'm a government agent and I'm confiscating your shit. Get out."
His eyes darted back and forth from the gun to Nami, the confusion evident on his face.
"I don't think that's a real gun," he said.
Pulling the slide back was her answer. It looked like it took all of her strength to do it.
His eyes followed the bullet that ejected from the chamber and watched it fall to the ground. The confusion on his face turned to panic while he bumbled at the door handle. Scrambling out of the car, he walked backward with his hands up, never taking his gaze off the gun. When he got a dozen feet or so away, he turned and ran for the lobby.
Nami looked back at us with a huge grin on her face. "Too easy."
"You're a little badass!" Sammy said with genuine surprise on her face.
"Fucking A."
After helping me into the passenger seat, Sammy ran around to the driver's side. Nami climbed into the back.
"Where are we going?" Sammy asked.
"Go right on Fifty West. Fast," I said. "Drive like my life depends on it, because it probably does."
"Sweet, there's an iPhone back here. I'm going to see what's on the wire."
The tires squealed as we slid onto the road, already doing thirty-five miles per hour. In the side mirror I could see the first ambulance turning into the hotel parking lot.
Pulling down the sun visor, I looked at myself in the vanity mirror. I was messed up. Blood ran out of just about every orifice on my body and had started to dry. My left eye was swelling up and my nose had a new bend in it. A long, shallow cut ran across my cheek where it hit the railing. I ran my tongue over my bloody teeth, trying to see if any of them were loose. Everything seemed sturdy enough.
"I'm guessing they figured out I escaped the hospital," I said to Nami as I looked back at her.
"Oh yeah, they're officially calling the search for you a manhunt now. You have a bunch of new charges too: assault, impersonating an officer, et cetera. They have a picture of you up, but your face doesn't look anything like that right now. You look like you went for a swim in a meat grinder."
Random emotions and ideas were flitting through my mind as cars zipped past in the other lanes. Their prominence kept increasing, like turning up the volume on a television.
"Don't slow down, just run all the lights." I put my palms on my temples, squeezing my head. "We're running out of time."
"Time for what? Was he going to kill us back there?" Nami asked.
"Yeah, he was going to shoot both of you and pin your murders on me."
"What? Why? We were helping them!"
"All of Smith's people were killed by Murdock. They brought you in because you were the youngest, most expendable tech analyst they could find. They planned on killing you once their mission was accomplished. After what's about to happen they can't have any loose ends."
Traffic bogged down as we came to the intersection at Florida Avenue and Sammy had to stop. The fog that descended in my mind made it nearly impossible to see or hear anything around me. The pressure escalated to an unbearable level as I bent over in my seat, wrapping my arms around my head.
"Go! Drive on the sidewalk if you have to!"
If they said anything to me, I couldn't hear them. I just kept pleading for her to drive over and over again.
Slowly the vise-like pressure eased. When I sat up my vision had cleared enough to see that we were weaving through traffic at an insane pace. We clipped the back end of a yellow Camaro as Sammy swerved into the right lane.
"Shit, sorry!"
She sat ramrod straight, her chest almost touching the steering wheel. She looked so tense that if she farted she might fly through the windshield.
Nami said something from the back seat but I couldn't hear her through all the other voices floating by.
"I can't hear you!"
"I said what's about to happen?" she yelled.
"Murdock is going to kill the president on national TV."