Death Perception - Murder In Mind's Eye by Barbara Bretana - HTML preview

Chapter XX

I woke up, refreshed from a day sleep knowing who I was and where I was and what I needed to do. Sneaking past the guards outside my door wasn’t a problem; I merely tweaked his sense so that his eyes were in a different direction when I slipped out and down the hallway. I felt bad about picking his wallet clean but left a note asking Jed and my uncle to replace the $400 I took from him. Clothes were a more difficult problem, I finally settled on a pair of XS scrubs and some lady’s sneakers.

My first ride outside the hospital was a motorcycle rider who told me he was waiting for me to show up and he would take me as far as PA. I hugged him around his leather covered waist and watched as the scenery flew by. He had an extra helmet and I wore it, concealing my face from the pursuit I knew would be coming as soon as the FBI realized I was gone. Police cars actually passed us, sirens blaring and my driver cut between traffic lanes to get out of the way.

“After you?” He yelled and downshifted as he slowed for the right lane.

“Probably!”

“You need a place to hang out?”

“No. I’m in a hurry. Headed to New York State. Maybe Vermont.”

“You got some tough times ahead of you,” he commented and his eyes lightened until they were colorless.

I pushed him. “NO! Don’t look into my future,” I warned him. “You’ll burn out your own sense.”

“That would be a blessing,” he sighed. “How long have you had yours?”

“Ever since I can remember,” I answered truthfully. He was silent for several miles until we stopped at a rest area for sodas and a bathroom break. He made sure he covered my stall, guarding me from any adults. I did not remove the helmet until I was inside the toilet where no one could see my eyes. He stood at the door and locked it while I washed my hands and stared at myself in the mirror above the sinks.

“Where are you from?” He asked me holding his helmet at his side.

“Texas.”

“I’m from Virginia. Cousin to the Beebes. We’ll be keeping tabs on you, Granny Elkins set it all up. We’ll be around when you need us. Ready?”

I nodded and we exited the restrooms, mounted back up onto his bike and headed onto the interstate. We watched as the highway system was overrun with state troopers, FBI agents and even ATF hot helicopters late into the evening hours but they never stopped us. We rolled into Pennsylvania’s border around 11 PM and at the first truck stop, were met by a woman standing near an 18 wheeler that hauled pigs. Her plates were from Tennessee and I recognized that hillbilly accent.

“Howdy, Cale,” she said and helped me off the bike. I was stiff from sitting so long, and felt like the vibration of the bike was etched into my bones. “Beebe Junior’s my cousin. He’s doing okay, can’t remember much after meeting you at the Knob. The bullet creased his head, scrambled his brains and broke his collarbone when he fell from the loft but he said to tell you he’s okay. Uncle Kyle sent you some things.”

She handed over a backpack with North Face on the label, pulled out changes of clothing, sunglasses, baseball cap, a SAT-phone, wallet with ID and credit cards. Plus $5000 in cash. I stood there with my mouth open.

“Uncle Kyle said it’s yours. Cassie set it aside for you, knew you’d need it. They’ll be tracking us after this, that FBI man knows we’re in touch with you and suspects we can sense you like we do. Knows we got the sight.” She blinked and her eyes paled to that strange quicksilver color. “Got bad times ahead of you, Cale. But not for a while. Got a respite for a while. Road ahead is clear for a few days. You need to walk, don’t hitch, don’t take rides, and stay off the secondaries. First town you come to, stay away from gas stations. Camp out when you get tired.” She came out of her trance, smiled sadly at me and said, “Wish I could’ve said goodbye to Cassie once more. You take care, Cale Snowdon.”

She climbed back up into her cab and drove off. The bike rider took his spare helmet back from me, tied it to a sissy bar and drove off without another glance. I didn’t need to ask his name, I’d known everything about him from the moment I’d touched him until he gently pulled the shutters down on his mind.

I sighed, put on the sunglasses, the baseball cap and started my lonely trek up the side of the highway. Lights hit me, made my shadow appear long and stick like it yet no one pulled over to investigate. As I trudged along, the woman joined me. She spoke not a word but followed me anxiously. She wore only a blue striped towel and her feet were in fluffy yellow slippers. She had one of those vinyl shower caps on her hair and she smelled like strawberry shampoo.

“Who are you?” I asked but she didn’t answer. She stayed with me until I found a spot under an overpass that offered a sheltered place to rest. When I looked up again she was gone. I knew that she would dog me until I found out whom she was and where she was going to die. She led me all the way towards Vermont and left me alone at the payphone in the small town square near the Village Green. I sat on the wrought iron bench near the Revolutionary War Monument, pulled out my SAT- phone and dialed the number I had memorized. It rang several times and then the familiar voice came on, sounding busy and harried. “Hello?”

His Boston accent was still as strong as ever and when I did not speak, he paused. “Cale?” He asked intuitively. “Is that you? Where are you? Are you okay? Don’t hang up, talk to me.”

“Hello, Jed,” I said slowly. “I’m going to need your help.”

“Tell me where you are, I’ll be there ASAP.”

I waited for him to meet me, to find Towel Lady’s resting spot wherever she might be. The helicopter set down outside the small county airport and the FBI Team met me on the apron. Jed’s face was extremely noncommittal as he loaded me up and followed my directions to the next town and the first murder in the state in 20 years.

The End.