The Forbidden Trilogy(50)

I remembered that feeling while in Luke and Lucy's mind, but the thought of my best friends filled me with a profound loneliness. I would probably never see them again, which seemed—unfathomable. Inconceivable.

'Sam, stay focused. We'll get out of here and then we'll help them. I promise.'

I had to believe him. So I would bide my time and wait for a chance to practice mind control.

***

My opportunity came that night when the nurse brought me dinner.

The sound of the door opening woke me from a nap I didn't realize I had taken. She placed a tray of food on the table next to my bed. I eyed the funky looking meatloaf and Jell-O mold suspiciously, but knew I'd have to eat it if I wanted to keep up my strength. Besides, if they wanted to feed me drugs, they had a straight line to my veins. They wouldn't have to rely on my food.

Before the nurse could leave, I decided to practice the mind control thing. Who knew when I would get another chance?

"Drake, are you ready?"

'Yes.'

First I reached into her mind.

'She thinks she's so much better than everyone because she has powers... just a freak... can't believe I felt sorry for her... can't believe they want to breed more like her... disgusting....'

I focused my will and planted a thought.

"You need to wash your hands... you should do that right now...."

For a moment, I thought I'd succeeded, that her will would bend to mine, and a heady rush of power filled me. But then her will rose up and pushed me out with a violent force. My head exploded in pain and I cried out.

"What's the matter now?" She sounded bored, not angry or suspicious. How could she not notice? She must not have sensitivity to anything.

"Just a headache. Migraine."

"I can authorize a pain medication if you'd like."

As tempting as that was, I wanted to stay alert.

"No, I'll be okay. Thanks."

She shrugged and left the room, and I slumped back into my bed, sad and defeated.

"Drake, why didn't it work? It should have worked. I could feel it. I was so close."

'Don't give up, Sam. You just need more practice. It took me time to master this, and you're pushing it pretty fast. Try again once you recover. Next time, instead of talking to the person, reframe the thought as something they would think to themselves, like 'I need to wash my hands.'

That made sense. The compulsion needed to feel like it generated from within the person being controlled. I considered future commands and practiced them in my head while waiting for the next opportunity.

***

Instant success did seem unlikely, but that didn't make the failures sting less. Still, I didn't give up.

I used the same command over and over, and each time the headache lessened—marginally, but enough to offer hope.

By dinner the next night, everything clicked into place. As per usual, I compelled her to wash her hands, and then waited for the onslaught of the headache.

Only it never came.

Her will bent to mine, and it stayed bent.

"Excuse me, I need to use your bathroom to wash my hands." She walked to the bathroom, washed her hands, and then left my room with a slightly baffled look on her face. The lock clicked shut as she went back to wherever she spent her time when she wasn't sitting in judgment of me.

I'd done it! She couldn't have had that impulse to wash her hands in my bathroom at the exact moment I implanted the thought.

Drake's voice filled my mind. 'I knew you could do it. Now you just need to practice more, in small ways. They'll remember what they did, unless you also tell them to forget after they do it. You need to get good at that, because the things you'll want her to do later will raise huge red flags if she remembers.'

"No kidding. I doubt she'll think it was normal to let me out of my room so I can swap your drugs. But, if I can control her mind, why not just have her swap the drugs, wouldn't that be easier?"

'Logistically it would be, but you would need to micromanage her mind and control each step of the process. If you slipped even once, you would fail. Getting someone to go against their own will, especially if it also violates their ethics, requires a tremendous amount of sustained power. It would be easier to lock her in a bathroom and compel her to forget, though there are obviously more risks to you if you have to leave the room and make the switch yourself. Speaking of that, I have the drug information you need.'

I grabbed a pen and paper and took notes, all the while wondering what would happen if she didn't forget as commanded, or if I got caught in the halls. We'd have to avoid Dr. Pana, or I'd be screwed.

***

It had been two and a half days, and I hadn't seen anyone but the nurse and Dr. Pana. That changed during my afternoon exercise hour.

My assigned guard, an average man in every conceivable way—nothing like Gar at all—was leading me back to my room. During the short walk, a doctor escorted a pregnant girl out to the lawn. The girl looked to be close to her delivery date. My guard grabbed my arm harshly, steering me down the hall, but in that brief moment I locked eyes with the girl. Tears formed in her eyes as we recognized each other.