Runner (Sam Dryden Novel)

Now, as Dryden began to consciously process the message, all other thought fell aside. The words materialized, one every few seconds.

 

SEEN - THE - EVIDENCE - GET - AWAY - FROM - THEM - AND - COME - TO - GAULS - PEOPLE - AT - WILLIS - TOWER - SECURITY - OFFICE - OR - CALL - THEM - 062-585-0184 - HIS - PEOPLE - WILL - NOT - KILL - YOU - PLEASE - DO - THIS - THERE - ARE - MORE - LIVES - AT - STAKE - HELLO - SAM - THIS - IS - COLE - HARRIS - GOLDENROD - I - AM - HELPING - GAULS - PEOPLE - CONTACT - YOU - THE - GIRL - DOES - NOT - KNOW - WHO - SHE - REALLY - IS - SHE - HAS - A - CAPABILITY - GREATER - THAN - MIND - READING - SHE - HAS - USED - IT - TO - KILL - INNOCENT - PEOPLE - THE - TWO - WOMEN - HAVE - MADE - HER - DO - THIS - I - HAVE - SEEN - THE - EVIDENCE - GET - AWAY - FROM - THEM - AND - COME - TO - GAULS - PEOPLE - AT - WILLIS - TOWER - SECURITY - OFFICE - OR - CALL

 

Dryden stood staring as the message looped again. He felt his mind trying to get a handle on it … and trying not to.

 

Denial wanted to assert itself. He wanted to let it. Wanted to believe it was a trap, or a trick, one that Cole Harris had simply been fooled into going along with. Cole was a smart guy, but anything was possible. Gaul was a smart guy, too.

 

The message cycled again. Dryden put his hand to the windowpane to steady himself. He shut his eyes. Through his closed lids he could still see the flashing.

 

THE - GIRL - DOES - NOT - KNOW - WHO - SHE - REALLY - IS

 

In his mind Dryden saw Audrey and Sandra at the dining table.

 

All we’re saying is that we want Rachel to remember it for herself first. Honey, if we tried to tell you now … we’re not sure you’d believe us. You sure as hell wouldn’t want to believe us.

 

SHE - HAS - A - CAPABILITY - GREATER - THAN - MIND - READING

 

Rachel was different from her mother. Different from all of us, in one very important way.

 

SHE - HAS - USED - IT - TO - KILL - INNOCENT - PEOPLE - THE - TWO - WOMEN - HAVE - MADE - HER - DO - THIS

 

What the hell did that mean? How would any amount of coercion have made Rachel murder people?

 

I - HAVE - SEEN - THE - EVIDENCE

 

Dryden opened his eyes and pushed off from the glass.

 

Enough trying to make sense of what he couldn’t know. Life had taught him, by hard lessons, to act on what he did know.

 

He couldn’t just leave here without Rachel.

 

He knew that.

 

Irrational options spun up in his thoughts. Get her out of this place. Acquire a supply of the drug—any of the kinds used for sleep interrogation would do—and keep her on low doses forever. Keep the memory roadblock in place. Maybe the flashed message was bullshit, maybe it wasn’t, but with enough of the drug, he and Rachel would never need to find out. She’d understand. Hell, she’d insist.

 

Cooperating with Gaul was no option. Whatever he might do to Dryden, he would have Rachel killed on sight.

 

Only one move made any sense.

 

The SIG’s balanced weight felt reassuring in his hand. He left the windows, crossed the living room, and entered the hallway toward the east end of the apartment.

 

*

 

Rachel willed the triceratops to reveal its name. It returned her stare with its plastic eyes gleaming in the half-light and surrendered nothing.

 

“Fine,” she said.

 

She rolled onto her back and watched the glow of the city shimmer on the wall. Sleep had been fitful, more off than on. She missed Sam’s thoughts. Four times during the night, she’d stood and gotten halfway to her bedroom door, blanket and pillow in hand, meaning to go commandeer the second couch in the living room. All that had stopped her was embarrassment. It wasn’t that Sam would think less of her—nothing would make him do that—but that she would think far less of herself. If she couldn’t stand up to her own fears now, how would she handle whatever was coming? The things Audrey and Sandra couldn’t bring themselves to tell her.

 

She grabbed the triceratops again, pulled it tightly against her, and closed her eyes. Forget about looking at it; most of her memories of this thing probably involved hugging it. The soft fabric felt good against her arms. It felt … familiar.

 

What was its name?

 

A word swam up toward the surface of her consciousness, flashed below the waves, and vanished again. So close her mouth had nearly blurted it out—but it was already gone, back into the deep.

 

Damn.

 

The dinosaur’s name was the first domino; of that she was certain. This one detail from her past would unlock all the rest. Open it up like a blister, so she could just deal with whatever came out. It could happen any minute now. Any second. She hugged the triceratops to her chest as hard as she could.

 

Movement below the waves again. Here it came. Her lips strained to form the word.

 

It started with—

 

Her concentration suddenly broke like a thread. She sat up fast, the dinosaur falling away forgotten.

 

Sam was in the hallway.

 

His thoughts came to her like a voice from far away, fading in and out through gusting wind. She couldn’t catch the words—not yet—but the nature of his thinking was unmistakable: hyperalert, and saturated with tension.