Brian O'Grady - Hybrid

“Not exactly. I know he’s pretty far from here. He started out going south, but then he stopped. I thought he was trying to get out of the state, but now I’m not so sure. Are you all right?”

“I will be; just a little down after our encounter.” An idea had been forming in her mind, and she tried to appraise the priest’s inner strength. “Father, do you remember yesterday’s lesson. Can you find and focus on a single mind among many?”

Lisa piped in. “He certainly focused in on my mind.”

“But you were sitting right next to him,” she turned to her mother-in-law. “Can you do it on a stranger, in a crowd? I don’t mean someone like Reisch; can you do it on someone who is unaware?”

“I can see where you’re going with this, Amanda,” Patton said.

“I think so; how is that going to help us find Reisch?” Oliver asked.

Amanda quickly explained what she had learned from Reisch. “There are eleven people out there, and each one is as dangerous as Reisch. I’m guessing that they have to be in or near major population centers — certainly New York, L.A., and Chicago.”

Oliver looked dubious. ”There are millions of people in those places. How do I find just one mind?”

“It’s not as farfetched as it seems. That one mind will have unique characteristics — excitement, fear, a sense of purpose and finality. It will be a singular pattern. You should be able to sense it and then home in.”

“A psychic bloodhound,” Greg said.

“Well, I can try,” Oliver said, a singular pattern of fear and excitement filling his mind.

“At least it will keep you out of my way,” Amanda smiled.

* * *

“Pick a place,” Patton said getting to his feet.

“New York?” Oliver said. “I’ve never been there and I’m sure it would be a target they would want to hit.” Oliver looked around the room for consensus.

“As good a place as any,” Patton said and practically lifted the priest to his feet. “At least we’ll be doing something.” Patton’s gaze fell on Amanda. “I’m still responsible for you. Are you going to behave?”

“As soon as I recover, I’m going after him. I will do what I have to do.” Amanda was getting tired of saying that to people. “But I have to do it alone.” She looked in turn at Lisa, Greg, and finally Oliver.”

“Fair enough,” Patton said, guiding Oliver to the door.

“You’re taking him now?” Greg asked. “It might be helpful if I went with him.” He quickly looked at his wife.

Patton looked at Oliver and then Amanda.

“I feel like a piece of meat,” Oliver quipped.

“Well, we’ll meet you downstairs,” Patton said and walked out of the waiting room. After a moment’s hesitation, Oliver followed.

“As soon as this is done, I was thinking about going home and taking a nap. I’m in no shape to do this again.” She said to her in-laws.

“I can drive her,” Lisa said. “Go, do your job,” she said to Greg. He kissed them both and followed after them.

* * *

“What’s it like, knowing what everyone around you is thinking?” Patton asked Oliver as they waited for the elevator.

“I haven’t been doing it for very long, but usually it’s rather sad,” Oliver said, hitting the down button for the elevator.

Patton looked at him with a frown.

“Most people scurry around, wrapped up in selfish and superficial concerns. They’re so involved with the trivial aspects of life that they never really learn what’s important to them.”

“Jesus Christ,” Patton said without thinking. “How depressing.”

Oliver shook his head. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. Once you break through that superficial layer, you realize that most people are just like you. We all are driven by the same needs, we all want the same things, and we all are plagued by the same insecurities. All the same basic programs have been written into our souls, and that’s what connects us.”

Oliver’s voice trailed away as a young couple approached. The woman was carrying a new baby and was engrossed in his smiles and cooing. The young man shuffled behind them; an aura of blackness enveloped him. Even Patton could feel the cloud of malignancy that surrounded him.

The elevator door opened, and Patton stopped his appraisal of the young man long enough to squeeze into the car behind him. The door closed, and Oliver shifted closer to the two parents, pushing Patton’s stomach up against the polished stainless steel. Patton grunted and looked down at the priest and found him staring intently at the couple. For a moment, he thought he was about to bless the baby, but then the elevator dinged and the door slid open. Patton took three large steps and waited for Oliver. The priest caught up to him and paused. “Wait here for just a moment, Rodney,” he whispered as the young parents walked toward the lobby doors.

The young man stumbled a little, and then he let out a scream that filled the two-story atrium. He grabbed his head and fell to his knees, cries of pain echoing off the glass. The new mother was startled at first. She tried to bend down to her husband, but he was thrashing so wildly he threatened her baby. Then she started to scream for help, and the baby began to cry. Patton leapt forward and gently brushed her aside. He took hold of the smaller man’s shoulders and eased him to the floor. His screams were reduced to intermittent yelps that were almost as bad as the blood-curdling yells; his wife and child were crying so loudly that Patton wanted to be anywhere other than between them.

A few moments later, a nurse and two white-coated older men arrived and took over. Patton backed away as rapidly as the growing crowd would let him and just stared as they attended to the stricken young man. He found Oliver comforting the young mother; he had guided her away from the commotion and was practically whispering in her ear. The baby had quieted, but Mom continued to cry. She began to respond to what the priest was telling her, nodding her head. Patton didn’t think it was wise to intrude, so he waited as more help arrived, some of which was directed to the woman.

“Go with these nice people, honey. They’ll take care of everything,” Oliver said quietly. The woman’s eyes were wide, but unfocused, almost as if she was coming out of a trance. Oliver walked towards Patton. They exchanged glances and proceeded without a word through the double doors and into the early spring sunshine.

“You did that, didn’t you?” Patton said as they approached the car. “Was he going to hurt them?”

“Yes,” Oliver said without further explanation.

“Be careful how you use that,” Patton said softly, but then thought, if you can’t trust a priest, who can you trust?

“Don’t put too much faith in any man, Chief, including me,” Oliver responded to his thought. “But I will be careful.”

The MRI looked terrible. Streaks of gray and black filled the screen, and no matter how they tweaked the dials, they just couldn’t image his brain. The CAT scan had been a similar failure, and James Neval was running out of options. Dr. Rucker had sustained a devastating injury on top of an unidentifiable infection, and nothing he did seemed to make a difference. They had placed a small monitor under his scalp to measure the pressure inside his brain, and the last time he had checked that number blinked 42. It should have been less than 15. He was in a deep chemical coma; it was the last reasonable thing that could be done, and it wasn’t working.

“I’ve tried everything I know, and even some things I don’t know,” the neuroradiologist said. “I just can’t get you an image. He’s got to have metal or some strange paramagnetic effect in his head.” He was frustrated. It was their second attempt, and these pictures were worse than the first.