Chapter 15

Ray spent time searching a number of databases, some of them online and others he’d learned about as part of his Army intelligence work, until he’d located Henderson’s temporary address in El Paso. After a quick check of engine oil and coolant, something Ray did each week, he started the Volvo and drove to the Airport Holiday Inn.

Ray glanced around, then walked up to the front desk and asked the clerk if Henderson was in his room. The clerk refused to say, and possibly he didn’t know anyway. He offered to telephone Henderson’s room, but Ray told him he would just call by cell phone, pulling his phone from the hip carrier as he walked away. The clerk dropped the matter. The cell phone went back into its leather pouch as soon as Ray was out of the clerk’s sight. Something ... something was nagging at his senses. He looked around to see what he was hearing, but if anyone was engaged in conversation, Ray couldn’t see them.

He had become distracted as soon as he’d walked into the lobby. He realized now that it wasn’t really sound, but a kind of feeling that there was some sort of low-level static that began as he approached the door. He had tried to dismiss it as something minor, a defective fluorescent lamp perhaps, but then he realized that the buzzy feeling was all around him and it became stronger when he was near people. Ray was attempting, subconsciously, to suppress this newly-discovered background ‘noise’. He suddenly realized that perhaps this was related to what had happened when he began communicating with ‘Tom’ in the library. Ray had discovered that the man’s name wasn’t Tom, and that he was accustomed to being called T by other communicators.

The distraction finally became too much to ignore. He needed answers.

<T?>

The call came as I sat there in the parking lot, still in shock. My mind kept trying to call Surfer even as I realized that he was gone now, gone forever. I briefly communicated with Shezzie to let her know what I’d experienced. She was as shocked as I was, and dismayed. Surfer had been the one who convinced her that her Talent was real, something she could use to help patients.

I hadn’t managed to internalize Surfer’s death. I had never really liked the guy that much, he was too different and too strong for me to be comfortable communicating with him, but now he was gone and there was an emptiness, a void. Others apparently hadn’t had as much of a problem, but regardless of the reason I hadn’t enjoyed the experience when he commed me. Still, realizing that he was dead made me understand that I was now the sole surviving graduate of the School.

In all likelihood I wouldn’t have survived either had I not been a fluke, an unintended and unwanted by-product. They’d dumped me off to the Army and simply hadn’t considered me important enough to include in the priority group when they went after the telepaths. Sending me into combat had almost certainly saved my life.

Anger grew to fill that void his death had left, grew until it became rage. That School had selected us, trained us, and finally murdered most of us lest we become a problem! Henderson had likely not done it by himself, but he’d been the one in charge! He had given the orders that eventually led to Surfer’s death. He was responsible!

I tried to tamp the anger down. I had no good outlet for it.

<I’m here, Ray. Surfer... > the rage threatened to break loose. <Ray, Surfer panicked and went to a doctor in Mexico, in Palomas. He decided he had to get that device out right away before Henderson could recognize him and push the button. I tried to get him to wait until we could help, but he just wouldn’t listen. He’s dead, Ray, and I felt him die!>

<Oh, shit! Oh, shit, T! What are you going to do?> Ray paused for a moment. <Should we pick him up or something, his body I mean? Does he have family? And you’ve got that device in your neck too. What about you?>

<Ray, I don’t think there’s anything we can do. The Mexican cops will have been called in by now, the newspapers, too. The story will get out. It may not be a big thing in Mexico, but they’ll find his American documents and newspapers over here will run the story. If Henderson didn’t already know we were here, he will soon.>

<T, that’s why I called you. If calling is what we’re doing.>

<Calling or communicating, whatever you feel comfortable with.>

<OK. I didn’t know about Surfer. I’m really sorry, T. But anyway, I found out where Henderson’s staying. He’s in the Holiday Inn, the airport one. I couldn’t find out if he was there right now or not. He may be out around town somewhere. If he decided to go out to eat, the best restaurants are out on the east side or the west side, near the interstate. There are a couple near UTEP that are decent too. There’s no way to be sure where he is.

<Something else, I’ve got a problem. I can’t think clearly when I’m around people. I feel funny and I can’t concentrate. It’s like there’s a radio playing, but it’s between stations so that I’m getting static and occasionally there’s something that sounds like voices. It’s not like someone’s talking, but more like there are several conversations where everyone’s talking at once.>

<Ray, I had the same thing happen to me, Shezzie too, back when she was just learning about her Talent. That buzzing means you’ve got it too, the communication Talent, and maybe you’ve got more Talents than just telepathy. We’ll need to check, and maybe Shezzie can help you work through the static. She’s a stronger communicator than I am and she’s got more empathy too.>

<T, Have you had a chance to check on Marisela?>

<Not yet. I was on my way to meet Shezzie when I got involved in Surfer’s thing. He just panicked and told me about Henderson, he was happy that he was getting rid of that damned thing in his neck, and then he just died. I haven’t recovered yet. I’ll think about finding out if the Mexican police know anything they aren’t telling, but it’s best now that I meet Shezzie and we do some planning. But Henderson, what to do about him, he has just become a high priority. Not for you because he doesn’t know about you, but he certainly knows about me. You also don’t have an implant. Sorry, Ray, but I may have to take care of Henderson before I can work on Marisela’s case.

<We’ll overnight in El Paso and cross into Juarez tomorrow, but it may be later than we’d planned. Shezzie can sense stuff just from being around people, better than I can anyway, and maybe she can even listen although I don’t know if different languages will complicate that. I’ll be along as her protector and muscle, so we should be safe enough. I’ll call you back after I’ve talked with Shezzie.

<There are three priorities now, the way I see it; Henderson’s number one, but he’s my problem and I’ll deal with it. You need to work on your Talent, see what you’ve developed besides communicating, and as soon as we can get together Shezzie and I will work on that with you. Don’t expect too much, there may be nothing else, but Shezzie picked up additional Talents when we melded that first time so I figure that you may have, too. Third priority, we have to see about Marisela and that’s something all of us can work on, even though Shezzie and I will be the ones who cross into Juarez. Marisela is dead and there’s nothing we can do about that, which is why the other issues come first. We can help her family work through their grief by finding answers, but I think that can wait while we take care of the other things I mentioned.