Chapter 25

"And you know that peace can only be won, when we've blown 'em all to kingdom come!"

It was early 1992 and Aimee was tending her garden. It was just the two of us there, and I noticed that some things were different. First, Dawn wasn't with Aimee. This was unusual in and of itself; Dawn seemed to be a permanent fixture around Aimee when she was tending her garden, recently. Second, Aimee wasn't singing. Third, and most striking: Aimee wasn't really gardening, either. She was just kneeling on her little plastic mat, looking very concerned.

"Jim, I need to speak with you," Aimee said as I approached her.

"Anything, Precious!" I couldn't think of too many things that would bother Aimee. Maybe Aimee wanted to talk about her lack of success in conceiving. I had been wanting to talk with her about it for a while, and thought that Aimee would finally be opening up to me about it. The fact that Dawn wasn't around would make things easier; I didn't know how to talk about "adult" things with Dawn around, although I did try, even if my attempts usually blew up in my face.

Aimee didn't answer immediately.

"What's bothering you, Precious?" I prodded.

Aimee looked at me and frowned. "Something is about to happen."

Those words gave my stomach a queasy feeling. "Can you tell me what?" I asked carefully.

"Not exactly."

That was not very helpful.

I had learned to trust when Aimee had these feelings, though. "Can you tell me anything?" I asked.

"For some reason, I've been thinking about how things have settled down," Aimee said. "I can still remember when we were being pursued, and then, all of a sudden, there was no longer any interest."

I nodded. "I remember wanting to take a wait and see attitude," I agreed. "So far, nothing ever came of it. We can now move freely around the country--and even out of it."

Aimee nodded. "I'm starting to get the old feelings again, but they're different."

Rather than be worried, I decided to tackle this head on. "Let's assume your suspicions are correct," I suggested. "Let's say that we're being followed again."

"All right," Aimee agreed.

"Mary hasn't noticed anybody," I pointed out.

"Maybe the people following us know better than to follow Mary again."

I nodded. "The big question, then, is: Why are they following us?"

Aimee nodded. "That's the problem. If what we were told is true, there should be nobody interested in us right now. Besides, I also have a feeling that the people following us aren't entirely the same ones as before."

A voice asked, "What's up?" startling the two of us.

The voice belonged to Mary. It was unusual for Mary or any of the other women to be in the garden when Aimee was tending it. Mary had a glass of lemonade and was topless; she looked as if she were heading for the landing by the beach.

"Can you help us with a puzzle?" I asked.

"Sure," Mary said. She looked surprised to being invited into our conversation.

I explained to Mary about Aimee's feelings. Mary's face turned to steel as she considered it.

"We need to act quickly," Mary said.

"How?" I asked.

"I didn't like running from the people following us before, and I won't have Dawn and James put in danger now."

I noticed how Mary only included the children in her list of priorities.

"All right," I agreed. "What do we do?"

"We find out who is following us, and follow them back to their source."

I didn't like the way Mary looked when she said that.

I slept with Aimee that night. She was very worried. As the night wore on, even when she was asleep, I saw Aimee shiver in fright. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen soon.

I knew instinctively that Mary's solution about a war of attrition would be messy: keep on piling up bodies until somebody comes to claim them. It had the advantage of being simple and effective. It was also patently illegal, unethical, and was bound to get us noticed by more people than just the ones following us.

That sort of plan would also have whomever was coming after us do so with bigger guns than we had. It was not a good solution nor was it a workable one.

I finally managed to close my eyes and have sleep descend upon me.

"Jim! Wake up!"

It was Aimee shaking me. I sighed. I had just gone to sleep.

"Don't sleep, Jim!"

"What's up?" I asked, a bit disturbed that Aimee woke me up.

"You're the key to this, not Mary."

"Huh?"

"Mary's way is to attack them where they are strongest. She may be successful to a point, but eventually, her methods will be unsuccessful."

I had already come to that conclusion. "So?"

"We must instead attack them where they are weak."

"How?"

"You need to exploit their big weakness. Their lack of knowledge is their weakness, Jim! It will work!"

"Their lack of knowledge?"

"Yes. I know that their ignorance is their big weakness."

"OK," I said, feeling very tired. "Let me sleep on it..."

"No! Sleeping is your particular weakness!"

Suddenly, Aimee's words hit me with their simple truth. She was right!

I sighed. "Where is June sleeping tonight?"

"Mary was going to sleep with her, but I remember that June is with Debbie tonight," Aimee said. "They are in June's room... Rose."

"Get June, and have her meet me in the atrium," I said, a plan starting to come together in my mind. "June and I need to talk... alone. I need you to talk with Mary. If our pursuers' lack of knowledge is their weakness, then Mary can be a good part of that weakness." I looked at the worried Polynesian. "And Aimee?"

"Yes, Master?"

"How long do we have?" I asked.

Aimee thought very hard. After a couple of minutes, she answered, "Twelve hours or less. It might be more, but I am thinking that it will be sooner rather than later."

Shit. I wished Aimee's talent for spotting trouble would have given us some more leeway. It was no use worrying about that now, though.

I had come up with a germ of an idea, but I needed to work with June on it.

I then asked Aimee to do the most dangerous thing that I have asked anybody ever to do.

"If you say so, Master," Aimee said, frowning. She did not look happy at my request.

I walked slowly downstairs to the atrium. June was already downstairs, having used the back stairs. She looked confused. "What's up, Jim?"

I moved close to June and whispered, "June, do you remember how you got me out of that place in my head where you told me that I hide?"

June nodded, whispering as well. "I just told you to blink."

"Do you think you'll be able to do it again?"

"Why?"

"Aimee is getting a feeling that things are going to get a little weird here," I explained. "She told me that sleeping was my weakness, which got me to thinking. You have seen the actual danger of me sleeping, and only the two of us--and maybe Aimee--know about it. I think I figured a way to turn that weakness into a strength. Aimee tells me that we have less than twelve hours, so they will probably hit us when they think we're all sleeping. Most likely first thing in the morning. That would be my plan."

"And you want me to help you out if that happens?" June asked.

"Yes."

"Of course," June agreed.

"You'll have to ignore what is going on around you," I warned June. "Aimee told me that sleeping is my weakness. Aimee didn't mention any other danger to me. Please remember that."

"All right," June said.

"Are you carrying?" I asked.

"I felt it might be necessary for some reason when I was called out of bed so early in the morning."

"Good. If you need to do something, do it quietly."

June looked at me and then understood. She nodded.

A couple of hours later, Aimee found me in the atrium. "Jim, it's going to happen in less than an hour," she whispered.

"I figured that," I whispered back. "You need to get upstairs and make sure that Mary, Dawn, and James are in the Orchid Room. Send Debbie down here."

"Debbie? Not Mary?" June asked.

I smiled at June. "Debbie," I repeated. "I have an idea for something and Debbie would be perfect."

Aimee had already left. She did not wish us luck, nor did she say good-bye. These were both very, very good omens.

"What's up?" Debbie asked, coming down the stairs, feeling groggy.

I whispered my response. "Shh, quiet. If James is hungry, Aimee can feed him from the mini kitchen in the Orchid room. Please stay down here with us."

"What's going on?" Debbie whispered back. "Everybody is wound up tight as a string!"

"We almost screwed up royally," I said. "People are still watching us."

"Shit! What's happening now?"

"Aimee says it's about to come to a head."

Debbie looked a bit frightened. "Shouldn't Mary be here instead of me?"

"No. You are the one I need here. Mary is upstairs with Aimee, Dawn, and James. If my plan fails, Mary will prevent anything from happening to the rest of the family. There are two stairways, but Mary can position herself so that she can defend both. She's a dead shot with both hands, so I imagine she has two automatics with her. The circuit breaker for the dumbwaiter has been off, so that can't be used easily. Mary will prevent anything from happening upstairs. The children are paramount--to us and especially to Mary. Trust me, we need Mary upstairs with the children."

Debbie didn't understand my reasoning, but at least I had the air of command that my training had instilled into me.

There was still some time. "Debbie, are you feeling tired?"

"Huh?" Debbie asked. "Um, yeah..." She yawned.

"Good," I said, entering her mind. "I want you to go to sleep."

"What... ?"

I signaled to June, and then I started talking softly to Debbie, punctuating my words with powerful mental probes into Debbie's mind. I needed her to feel tired, tired, tired...

Debbie started to nod off.

"Everything is normal, Debbie," I said. "Nothing is going to go wrong. Everything is under control..."

It took a few minutes, but then I felt it. There was an air of sleepiness and confidence that started wafting through the room.

June and I quickly moved Debbie to a couch in the atrium that was close to the approach to the stairway. It looked like she fell asleep on the couch. It was easy to see her from the front door. It made sense that this would be the initial point of entry.

I had experienced Debbie's infectious moods for nearly four years, and had come up with bit of a defense against it. I quickly taught June the trick mentally, as I saw her start to succumb to Debbie's exhaustion radiation.

As I did that, I kept pushing the thought of tiredness into Debbie's mind. Tiredness and confidence. I needed the exhaustion to be complete.

The strain was getting too much for me... I felt myself giving in to the slumber myself...

"Jim!"

The voice came from within my mind. I looked around and I was on a lonely road. Shit!

"Open your eyes!"

I opened my eyes, and I was now in the kitchen.

June had pulled me far away from Debbie. The moods and emotions that June and I had implanted into Debbie's mind were far stronger than I had ever encountered, and I almost succumbed myself, even knowing that the emotions were there.

Aimee had told me that the people after us weren't entirely the same as before. If that were so, then there was a good chance that these people probably had more than a suspicion about our powers.

My hope, then, was that the person or persons that came through the front door would include at least an Empath or two. If so, the thoughts that Debbie was emanating would probably knock him or her down before they realized it. Due to June's and my continuous strengthening of Debbie's emotional transmissions, maybe even non-Empaths would feel it. That was my hope.

When Aimee convinced me that we were once again being followed, I realized that it could only be William Voder. He knew our secret. He also insinuated that he felt Debbie's emotional broadcasts. I had realized in the few years since that it was mainly Empaths that felt Debbie's radiations. That meant that William was one of us, despite his continued denials. His denial of any ability was how he tried to convince me that he wasn't interested in the powers, except academically. If he was indeed an Empath, it followed that he did have more than a passing interest in our situation and our abilities.

How could I have been so trusting? Mary never really trusted him, and I now realize that he never really got close to Mary. Of course, there was no use crying over spilled milk. We just needed to clean it up and move on.

Another thing that I had realized was that William had been tracking us all along. He had known when we returned to Falls Church, and he gave us a package that contained a new alias for June. How could he have known June's elevated status in our family if he hadn't been monitoring us somehow?

How many other clues had I carelessly ignored in the last few years?

"Master," I heard Aimee's voice in my mind.

"Yes, Precious?" I sent back to her.

"The back door is unsafe. The danger is different there."

"Thank you, Aimee," I said. Why hadn't I thought of the back door? I started to improvise a secondary plan, and came up with an interesting diversion.

The connection to Aimee broke. I felt bolstered by Aimee's confidence, hoping it wasn't the false confidence that Debbie was exuding.

I signaled for June to head out of the kitchen toward the back. There was a chair in the laundry room that would come in handy.

I felt a foreign presence somewhere nearby. I knew it wasn't any of the people that I lived with.

Some part of my mind indicated that I had felt that particular presence somewhere before.

Ah... Patricia! She's part of this!

I pictured her in my mind's eye. Was she an Empath? Perhaps. Aimee didn't pick up on it when she talked with her, but she had come back from her meeting with doubts about her.

Patricia was getting closer. I probed the outside of her mind and I saw something very familiar. Inwardly, a part of me was laughing. This was so funny!

"June?" I whispered.

"What?"

"Do you remember how we got Debbie to go to sleep? How we pushed the thoughts into her mind?"

"Yes?"

"Can you try to do that when I ask you to? Push a single powerful thought into somebody's mind? There's somebody just outside the back door."

"What thought?"

"It will be easy. Horniness."

"Huh?"

"Trust me."

"I'll try."

"Quick... move back a few feet do what I tell you to do!" I whispered. "Meet me on that lonely road."

"Huh?" June asked.

"Just do it!" I said.

June moved back, and stared at me.

I sat on the chair.

Patricia was so close now. I could feel the beginnings of a very weak mind probe.

I closed my eyes. It was all up to June, now.

I took a deep breath...

I was now walking down a lonely road... the moon was out and the stars were of a familiar pattern.

Suddenly, June appeared on the road. "Blink your eyes!"

"Not yet, June. Stay with me. We're dead to the world of Empaths right now."

"There are people nearby!"

"People will think we're unconscious."

"When should I project the horniness?"

"After we leave here. You'll feel the horniness, and that will be your cue," I smiled.

"There are people nearby," June said. "There are at least four people unconscious in the foyer and in the atrium."

"How can you tell?"

"I don't know how. I just know!" June sounded frustrated.

"Let's wait a little bit more. How many are near me?"

"One female."

"Her name is Patricia. She's the private investigator that was following us at one time."

"She seems confused."

"All right. Get back into your own mind and wait for me," I said.

I blinked.

"June!" I called out, ignoring the Polynesian woman that was near me. "Suck me now!" My tone was commanding.

My eyes were open but unfocused.

June moved quickly between my legs. She already had her robe off and placed it on a pile between my legs before kneeling on it. June was extremely horny, as she is every time I give her an order like that.

Patricia looked at us, confused.

I entered just the periphery of Patricia's mind. I could feel the horniness that June and I projected into her, and despite the danger, my member hardened. I could feel Patricia's envy... deep down, she was a submissive. I had recognized the similarity to June when I had probed her mind when she was outside. Patricia secretly loved to be ordered like I had just ordered June.

A man suddenly entered the laundry room, and looked at the impossible scene in front of him. His weapon was already cocked. He raised his arm...

June's right arm moved like lightning, pulling the knife from its location within her robe underneath her and into the bicep of the man holding the gun.

A shot exploded!

My eyes widened, surprised that a shot had gotten off. June was not slow with a knife or any other deadly weapon.

When my eyes focused, I saw that Mary was behind the man in the kitchen. Apparently, she came down the back stairs. She had a smoking gun in her hand, a bit higher than the center of the mass of his head.

The man was still standing, startled by the explosion and the fact that his arm was bleeding profusely. He had dropped the gun as his the muscles in his upper arm stopped working.

June had another, identical knife pointed at the man's groin.

"Mary missed!" June whispered, incredulously.

I didn't answer.

Patricia had her hands in the air, afraid to let them go anywhere near her weapon.

"Everybody is accounted for," Aimee projected to me. "There was one other person, but that person drove away before the people entered the front door."

"Fine. Wait before coming downstairs. I'll send June in to take care of the men in the atrium."

June did as I silently directed. Mary had picked up the intruder's gun, and also disarmed Patricia. She looked at me, confused.

I just smiled at Mary.

"Clear!" June said in my mind.

I sent a message for Aimee to come downstairs with as many pairs of pantyhose as she could find, but to watch out for Debbie's emotional broadcast. "Be careful, Aimee, Debbie is radiating exhaustion!"

Aimee told me she understood.

It was lucky we were in the laundry room. There was a cabinet that had some rags in it. I got one and started to apply direct pressure on the wounded man's bleeding arm.

Apparently, every person that was sent into our house was an Empath. Patricia was the weakest, but she was to come in from the back and to stay there and avoid trouble. Her job was to make sure nobody escaped.

Nobody had anticipated my using Debbie as the human equivalent of an ultrasonic weapon--walk into the room and find yourself almost immediately unconscious. Since Debbie radiated emotions naturally, the confidence that she emanated was felt first, probably while they were still outside the house. Our would-be attackers thought that their plan was going perfect.

Once they entered the doorway, however, the urge to sleep deeply was too consuming... all but one collapsed quite suddenly. The one other saw what was happening and managed to get out of Debbie's range.

Debbie continued to lay there; she was always a difficult person to arouse from a sleep. That was something that these men would all share that day.

Patricia entered the house from the back and saw me, apparently unconscious with no visible signs of life other than a steady and deep breathing. A probe of my mind didn't show any signs of life at all.

Patricia also noticed June nearby, but she, too, was dead to the world.

All of a sudden, Patricia heard my voice come out of nowhere... and everywhere...

My voice reverberated throughout Patricia's body, and almost immediately afterward, she felt it ripple through the nerve endings of her sexual organs. The rippling became more and more intense in a manner of milliseconds... Patricia could barely move at all.

Patricia felt a desire to be June. To feel the ecstasy that my organ was obviously generating for June...

Somebody else came in through the kitchen, but almost immediately, everything shifted and Patricia heard an explosion. She blinked, and saw Mary holding a smoking gun against her accomplice's head. The man had already dropped his gun and his arm was bleeding profusely.

Patrice wondered why her accomplice wasn't dead.

Everything was happening now, and it was nothing like they had planned. Patricia found herself still unable to move or speak. She was feeling very sexually frustrated...

We had six bodies to deal with. Five men and Patricia.

They all had radios and weapons, and Mary stripped all of our prisoners--including Patricia--and collected the contents of their pockets. None of them had any identification on them, but she hadn't expected them to have any. When she was finished, she had a number of handguns complete with silencers, all their clothing, their underwear, a collection of six hypodermic syringes, and even a small bottle of chloroform. Mary used one of the men's shirts as a rag, poured the chloroform onto it, and placed it over the noses of each of the unconscious men for a few seconds each, to ensure that they would not wake up any time soon.

I saw that the wounded man was pale; he was starting to go into shock. Mary and I moved him so that his head was on the floor and the rest of his body was raised onto the bodies of the other unconscious men. Despite the danger to the wounded man, Mary also chloroformed the wounded man, who didn't even try to struggle. "If he dies, he dies," Mary said, showing the amount of mercy one would expect from a mother toward somebody who had threatened the life of her child.

Mary indicated to June that she was to watch over our prisoners and led me into the kitchen.

"When did you trick up my gun?" Mary demanded in a whisper.

I shook my head. "I didn't. I had it done. I knew that your way of dealing with danger is lethal. Neither Aimee nor I saw that being needed."

"Aimee," Mary said. "I never would have suspected."

"I needed to keep you from killing somebody."

Mary didn't answer, but nodded.

"Only the bullet that was in the chamber of those two guns was replaced with a blank," I emphasized. "The rest of the bullets in your guns are live."

Mary's eyebrows raised up. "Really?"

"It was not my intention to actually endanger Dawn or anybody else," I assured Mary. "Not in a million years. If you killed that guy, there would have been questions. Uncomfortable questions. If things didn't go the way I planned, you would still have a full magazine, minus one bullet. I suspected you might come down when you noticed danger down here and not up there. Believe me, Mary, your way was plan B."

"June didn't use her gun," Mary said.

"I told her that if she needed to do something, to do it quietly. She had two knives and two guns in her robe. She was quite prepared. My suggestion made her favor her knives instead."