X-Team Three

Part Seven: Run! (Theo)

"Theo, they called the cops," Zane states, staring inconspicuously in the direction of the employees behind the counter. That's what I was afraid of. Cops are just going to make our jobs that much more difficult. If we don't get her out of here before they show up, red, bureaucratic tape will strangle the hell out of our mission. Municipal police departments don't know who the X-Teams are so we'd have to get in touch with the feds who'll have to come up with a cover story for us, and we may be taken off the case. I can't allow that to happen.

"Well, I can't do anything unless she's within my sight. You know that," I whisper as a customer passes by within earshot behind us. I've been hanging out in the history section of the book store where Gina works for the past ten minutes trying to figure out how to either get into the backroom where she is or get her to come out here. The door to the backroom is two feet to my left, and I can hear voices back there but can't make out what they're saying. Her coworkers have wisely stashed her back there until the cops show up. To make our jobs even more difficult, there are two male employees sitting with her back there as well. I can only control one mind at a time so busting through the door and taking over everyone back there isn't an option. Whoever said having psychic powers makes things easier can kiss my ass. This shit has done nothing but complicate my life since I took the X-Team pledge three years ago.

"Maybe we should just wait until the cops leave," Zane offers. He mindlessly pulls a book about World War Two off the shelf and poorly feigns interest in the back cover. History means nothing to Zane, and he's not fooling anyone.

I give him a sideways glance. "I can guarantee they're gonna want her to come back to the station with them. Trying to coax her out of the police department without raising concern with the officers would be more difficult than this. No. This has to be done now."

Our hands clamp down over our ears when the piercing sound of the fire alarm startles everyone in the store. As my eyes make an initial sweep trying to find smoke, Drew meanders up to us from the children's area. The smirk on his face tells me he's been up to no good. I think I may have found the source of the alarm.

"While you guys were over here getting nothing accomplished, I decided to take matters into my own hands," he says with a cheeky grin as he joins us. "Problem solved. Now we wait until she comes out." I, apparently, don't give Drew enough credit. I had no idea he had it in him.

Sure enough, five seconds later, the backroom door opens, and Gina comes out, followed by the two male employees. She has her hands covering her still bloody face hiding the damage, but the sticks and leaves have been removed from her hair. Her limp is even more obvious at this close proximity. I fall into step behind her coworkers and motion for Zane and Drew to follow me.

When we get out into the mall, it becomes obvious that pulling the alarm in one store sets all the rest of the alarms in the mall off as well. Chaos ensues as shoppers pour out of the stores and into the walkways. No one seems to know which exit is closest, parents are desperately trying to grab ahold of their children, and I'm having the hardest time keeping an eye on Gina. You would think in this post-9/11 world, a mall as large as this one would be a little more organized with something like an evacuation.

"Zane, do you still see her?" I holler over the increasing decibel level of voices. He's a few inches taller than I am.

"I can see the top of her head. Just keep up," he yells back.

We elbow and shuffle our way through the shoppers being herded by security toward the exit, dodging giggling children and shoving pushy teenagers right back. Eventually, I begin to feel a cool breeze blow across my face which means we must be getting close to the exit. Thank God. I may be an X-agent, but the confined space I'm in surrounded by other shoppers isn't exactly my thing.

Once we're out, I follow Zane into the maze of cars until I finally spot Gina. She's huddled within the circle of a number of concerned coworkers, and I roll my eyes. Great. If I do this now and force her out of the circle, her coworkers will follow, wondering why she's suddenly not acting like herself.

Just as I'm beginning to think signing up for this mission may have been the dumbest thing I've done this year, the sound of squealing tires draws my attention to the far end of the aisle of cars we're in. A white, raised Cadillac with expensive-looking rims comes barreling down the aisle toward us. I raise an eyebrow, and I'm about to step out of the way when the passenger leans out of the window and points a gun straight at Gina.

Zane's hand clamps down on my arm as he sees what I'm seeing. The syndicate is back, and I have about three seconds to do something.

Then it comes to me. This is actually perfect. I can save her life and create a diversion at the same time! I focus on the driver, feeling the burn as the connection is made. Then, I make him suicidal.

As the car swerves out of control, Gina and her coworkers scatter in different directions. The syndicate's car plows into one of the parked ones sending glass and metal flying everywhere. Zane grabs my hand and yanks me over into the next aisle of cars. Gina has a pretty nice head start on us, even with her limp, but she's no longer around her coworkers. That's what matters.

"Zane, concentrate," I say as I make the connection with Gina who's at least 25 yards away and still running.

"I'm with you," he replies as we dodge shoppers running to see the pile of mangled metal behind us.

I force my will down the connection, telling her to stop running, but...it doesn't work. If anything, she starts running faster. I use more power, the burn in my head almost painful, but it's no use. She's still running away.

"What the hell is going on, Zane?!" I puff, almost completely out of breath now.

"I don't know, man! I don't see your presence in her mind anywhere!" he replies.

Gina runs head long into a parked SUV as she's looking over her shoulder at the accident and is knocked to the ground. We catch up quickly now, and I offer her my hand. When she looks up at me, recognition widens her eyes and drops her jaw.

"Theo?" she asks, squinting at my face.

Shock completely empties my head. How the hell does she know who I am?!

She turns her eyes on Zane. "Zane Schwartz? Oh my God. You guys are real!" She takes my hand and rises to her feet, wavering slightly. "Where's Drew?"

I'm speechless. How does she know who we are?!

"I'm right here," Drew states as he arrives. We, apparently, left him in our dust during our pursuit. "How do you know who I am?" Finally, one of us says what we're all thinking.

"I have prophetic dreams," she says. "I've been dreaming of the three of you for months now, but I didn't know why."

My jaw hits the ground, yet again, and Zane elbows me. "Whelp, I guess we just figured out why you couldn't control her mind. If she has prophetic dreams, her mind is probably too strong for you."

"Uh, guys?" she says, her eyes focused behind us. "Maybe we should get going. You know, unless you want to die."

I turn and look over my shoulder to find the surviving syndicate members sneering in our direction. Shit. "Get her to the car!" I yell. "I'll slow them down!"Zane and Drew take off with Gina, her arm wrapped around Drew's shoulders so he can keep weight off of her injured leg. I spot one of the syndicate members pull a gun from the back of his jeans, and he lifts it, aiming right at me. I make a connection and have him pointing the gun at the syndicate member next to him in no time. The bystanders begin screaming and scatter like cockroaches. The member who's now at gunpoint raises his arms. Do I want to shoot him or not? I think about it for a couple more seconds as I begin backing away in the direction Zane, Drew, and Gina went. Hey, it would be one less syndicate member off the streets, but then Lawson's deep voice breaks into my thoughts. You're more than welcome to mess with them, but no death or insanity. Well, shit.

Instead, I wait until the gunman is tackled by his fellow syndicate members. Then I turn around, forcefully breaking the connection, and take off toward our car.