But Steven told me not to use my powers! He said it would reveal too much!
You have to take the chance. Lorraine, save yourself!
Lorraine heard footsteps from down the hall. She hurried to climb back up on the exam table.
I can’t do it alone! You said we were strongest together. That’s why you called us all here!
Lorraine, I’m . . . sick. I can’t help you right now. You have to do the same thing you did at the motel room. You . . .
Blanely had just entered the room, followed by the nurse. Lorraine turned quickly toward him, her eyes wide. He stared back at her, and for a moment it almost seemed as if he knew what was in her thoughts. But then he broke eye contact and turned to a table. He had brought a small plastic bag with him, which he hooked onto a stand behind the table. At the same time, the nurse slid a needle under the back of Lorraine’s wrist. It was done so efficiently that it didn’t hurt.
“What’s that?” Lorraine demanded.
“Nothing that will hurt you,” Blanely reassured her, although there was no kindness in his voice. “It’s just something to help you relax. We’re going to do some . . . tests.”
No! Don’t let them do that!
But Marty’s words came too late. Already Demerol was dripping into the child’s blood, at just the right dosage for her weight. It was only seconds before the medication took effect. Suddenly everything in the room seemed to be floating. Voices sounded farther away, stationary things began to move.
Marrrteeee . . .
Lorraine, you have to fight it!
But his words came out all stretched and distorted, and Lorraine hardly understood them.
It didn’t really matter, though. She kind of liked this feeling. At least it was better than being scared. Funny, now she wasn’t scared at all. She was just getting sleepy.
She heard Blanely and the nurse talking, but their words made no sense. Walter LaBerge suddenly came into the room. He reminded Lorraine of a big fat walrus, and she began to laugh. LaBerge glowered at her. She fixed her eyes on the lapel pin he wore. It seemed to float down the front of his chest, but when she blinked, it was right back where it belonged. LaBerge spoke in a way that sounded as if he was giving orders, then left the room.
She felt herself being lifted. Moments later she was on a gurney, the screech of the wheels sounding like sirens in her drugged mind.
No, that wasn’t sirens. It was screaming. Marty screaming.
Lorraine! You have to wake up!
MAAARRTEEEE . . .
They want to cut into you, Lorraine! They’re wheeling you into surgery! Snap out of it! You have to wake up!
It was the bright lights of the operating room that finally broke through the cloud that had wrapped around the little girl’s mind. Though the Demerol still dripped into her, she became fully aware that something horrible was about to happen.
“No!”
No one paid attention to her. She tried to move, but found she was too weak and dizzy.
You have to get the needle out of your arm!
Lorraine did as she was told, a line of blood trickling down her wrist. Blanely had his back to her, preparing himself for . . . something. The nurse was busy setting up tools. Lorraine glanced quickly around the room, her eyes finally settling on the stethoscope Blanley wore around his neck. She could just make out the white ear tips beneath his shirt collar. She stared at them, hard.
Blanely winced, and brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck. He felt a tremendous pressure there, a very sudden headache. Well, it was no wonder, he told himself, the way LaBerge treated everyone around here. The headache would go away in a few moments.
But it didn’t go away. The entire back of his skull seemed to press harder and harder against his brain, so hard he was certain that any more pressure would cause his head to explode. He shut his eyes and rolled his head, trying to find a position that would make the pain go away.
“Dr. Blanely?”
He heard the nurse, but he couldn’t answer her. Right at that moment he was certain he was going to die.
“Dr. Blanely, what’s wrong with you?” The nurse sounded near hysteria.
He rubbed at his neck and felt the tips of the stethoscope pushing into his neck, pinching nerves. It was as if they had a life of their own.
If he didn’t get rid of them right away, he’d surely die.
“No!” he shouted firmly, ripping the instrument from around his neck.
He threw it on the floor and stared at it. The nurse, in turn, stared at him and wondered if he had lost his mind. But Blanely wasn’t aware of her gaze. Instead, he felt the child glaring at him, and when he turned to look at her, her eyes were full of triumph.
“Did you do that?” he demanded of Lorraine.
She only stared at him, the effects of the Demerol still slowing her reflexes.