"Not...electrified," he said. "I'll...help you...over."

She didn't think either of them would have the strength to climb the ten-foot wire mesh, but somehow they made it to the other side without falling. After taking cover behind a tree and catching their breath, a fifteen-minute walk took them to a highway. They followed it to the nearest town, which turned out to be the Upstate New York village of Liberty, where John called a friend to come pick them up.

Leah slept the entire two-hour ride home.

Not once did she think about how easy their escape was.

Chapter Eight.

Agent Michael Smith smiled as he watched the video of Leah DeGarmo and John Carrera scaling the security fence surrounding the secret base he'd set up. He'd been afraid one or both of them would get hurt during their escape earlier in the week. It'd been tricky enough guiding them to the exit without their realizing it. An injury would mean resorting to a desperation plan of having two of his men disguised as civilians "accidentally" stumbling across the escaping pair and helping them into town.

Another monitor showed General Moore in the infirmary. His condition had deteriorated over the past two days, to the point where he needed life support to maintain him. Smith felt no regret at the man's loss. He'd done what they needed him to-served as the command figurehead for the soldiers, all of whom would have been hesitant about taking orders from a "spook".

And when Moore became a liability, there'd been no choice but to stop him before he told DeGarmo more than she needed to know.

He'd had a moment of near panic when DeGarmo brought the general back to life, but luckily healing memories was beyond even her power.

Power. The word echoed in Smith's head. DeGarmo was an untapped source of limitless possibilities. And other than her boyfriend and a double handful of soldiers-all of whom would be a.s.signed to his special ops team before the end of the day-only two people in the world knew about her.

And it was time to call the other one.

Smith tapped one of three contact numbers in his phone. It answered on the second ring.

"h.e.l.lo." The voice on the other end knew exactly who was calling.

"Plan B is a go," Smith said, "as we both expected. I have to thank you. She's everything you said and more. I'll be in touch soon regarding the next steps. For now, just keep doing what you've been doing. Help her, support her, be everything she needs you to be. I'll be in touch soon." He hung up before the other man could respond.

On the monitor, General Moore coded and died.

Tapping a few keys, Smith backed the video log up to the point where DeGarmo broke out of her cell.

He had a lot of studying to do.

"Who was that?"

John closed his phone and stuck it back in his pocket. They'd been staying in a hotel in Manhattan, courtesy of Leonard Marsh, for the past three days. During that time, Marsh's security team had been watching Leah's house and office, plus John's house, to see if they were under surveillance.

"Marsh," John said. "As far as they can tell, everything's clean. No bugs, no suspicious vehicles, nothing. He thinks it's safe for us to go home."

"That would be like a miracle." Leah patted the overstuffed mattress of their bed. "Staying in a hotel is great, but I really miss my own house."

The news that they weren't being watched was just the latest in a string of good luck that had Leah feeling like life might finally be returning to something close to ordinary again. The most important thing was that physically she was perfectly normal again. What she referred to as her "dead eyes" had disappeared at some point during their escape from the military base. She believed-and John agreed with her-that it happened when she pa.s.sed the general's wounds into the building's network.

Of almost equal importance was finding out they weren't on the Wanted lists of any military or government agencies. Leah had called Marsh as soon as they got to Rocky Point, and in turn he'd called some of his contacts. As far as he could tell, the names DeGarmo and Carrera weren't raising red flags anywhere.

"That doesn't mean you're safe, though," he'd told them. "From what you've told me, this sounds like more of a covert operation, something off the grid. Which means someone might still be looking for you. I think you should hide out in the city for a while until we're sure it's safe."

They'd taken Marsh up on his offer of a hotel room and checked in under his name.

Now, if what he said was true, they could finally get their lives in order again, or at least something close to it. Marsh had promised to post security guards at their houses and the clinic 24/7, which went a long way toward easing Leah's lingering fears of being taken hostage again.

That she wasn't completely terrified was something of a shock to her. She wasn't sure if it was because she'd become numbed to the danger of it all, or because the exponential growth of her Powers gave her a confidence her conscious brain hadn't processed-or accepted-yet.

What will be, will be.

A sentiment that could either be defeatist or optimistic.

Maybe it's both, she thought, getting off the bed. Or maybe there's a third option: realistic.

"Ready to go home?" John asked. His expression told her he already knew the answer, but she said it anyway.

"Let's start packing."

A week later, Leah opened the door to the clinic and couldn't help but smile at the sight of a completely filled waiting room. She greeted the people and pets she knew, and introduced herself to the others before heading into the back to put on her white lab coat.

John arrived an hour later with coffee and donuts, and the news that his retirement from the police force was official and he was ready to take on the role of office manager. It was something they'd discussed over the past week while reviewing applications for Leah's new a.s.sistant.

"I'll feel safer if I can keep an eye on you," he'd said, and while part of her cringed at the thought of them being together day and night, she had to admit it made her feel better too.

"Just for the first month," she'd told him. "Then you have to get a real job."

He handed her the coffee, gave her a kiss and then grabbed his keys.

"I'll get out of your hair for a while. Bank and then post office. I'll be back in an hour."

He paused at the door to her office.

"Try to stay out of trouble while I'm gone."

"Yes, Dad." She rolled her eyes at him. "Don't worry. This place is as safe as Fort Knox."

He started to say something, then shook his head and left.

A month of working together? Leah, what were you thinking?

Still, it was nice to have him around. Security details or not, it was John who'd kept her safe longer than anyone. And at least he was a visible presence.

Of Marsh's team there was no sign, but she knew it was out there, thanks to the daily email reports she received. That, plus the new video security systems at the house and clinic, really did provide as much safety as your average bank. There were only two rooms with no camera coverage.

The examination room and the operating theater.

It was into the former where she led her first patient of the day, a six-year-old boxer with a ma.s.sive growth on the side of its neck. Based on the pulsing green glow surrounding it, Leah was pretty certain it was cancer.

"We'll have to keep him overnight, Mrs. Weston," she told the dog's distraught owner. "It may be a tumor, but it might also be nothing more than a fatty deposit or an inflamed lymph node. I'll do an aspiration and an ultrasound this afternoon, and you can pick him up tomorrow."

Once out of sight, she guided the dog up onto an examination table and placed her hand on the tumor. There was the familiar electric shock and the dog gave a startled yip.

When she took her hand away, the lump was gone.

"Definitely cancer," she whispered as a throbbing pain started in her neck. She gave the dog a treat and then opened a nearby closet. Inside were four dozen portable radios John had picked up from various discount stores. She took one and placed it in the sink. Holding it with both hands, she concentrated on transferring the pain in her throat to the radio.

A second later there was a sound like bacon frying and a shower of sparks exploded out from the casing, leaving melted plastic in their wake.

Tossing the radio in the garbage, Leah looked at the dog and smiled.

"Congratulations. You're my first guilt-free Cure."

As she led the dog away, she marveled at how the road of her life could go from h.e.l.l to heaven in only two weeks.

For the first time in far too long, she was looking forward to seeing what lay down that road.

Chapter Nine.

"So, that's all you're going to do is watch her?"

Michael Smith jumped inwardly at the sound of Tom Niagara's voice. He'd been so engrossed with the live feed of DeGarmo curing a cat with a mangled back leg that he hadn't heard his boss enter the room.

Careless. That's the kind of thing that can get you demoted.

Or killed.

"For now, yes," he said in a casual tone, as if he hadn't been caught unawares. "The idea is to give her a lot of rope. Let her think she's safe so she returns to a normal routine. Think of it as a primate study. We're observing her in her natural habitat so she won't be hiding anything from us. We'll learn a lot more this way. Gradually, we'll step things up. Put her in potentially dangerous situations and see how she reacts."

"Won't that make her suspicious?"

"A random mugging in the mall parking lot? A dog or cat that suddenly goes berserk in the exam room? I don't think so. And if they do, we've got our man on the inside to smooth things over."

"You mean the man who almost ruined everything," Niagara said, his voice filled with scorn.

Smith turned in his chair.

"None of us could have foreseen the unexpected events we had to deal with. A rogue employee? Religious fanatics? Kidnappers? DeGarmo becoming some kind of Grim Reaper? All things considered, our man's done a d.a.m.n fine job of staying in DeGarmo's good graces."

"Speak of the devil." Niagara pointed past Smith to the video monitor where John Carrera and Leonard Marsh were entering the clinic through the back door.

"See?" Smith didn't try to hide the satisfaction in his voice as Leah greeted them. "The more trust he builds now, the easier it will be for him to manipulate her later."

"And what about the other one?"

Smith smiled. "Carrera has no idea he's a walking surveillance unit. We have teams watching him twenty-four seven. Trackers and bugs in all his clothes. Cameras in his office, car and house. We hear everything he hears, and see practically everything he sees."

"Let's hope so." Niagara turned and headed for the door. "There's a lot riding on this. More than you can imagine."

Smith waited until he was sure Niagara was gone before getting up and closing the door. He didn't want to be surprised again. He had a pretty good idea just how much was riding on Leah DeGarmo. Someone like her was worth more than any top-secret weapons research. Certainly worth more than the lives of a few spies.

Which was why he had his own plans for the veterinarian. And why he was keeping an ace up his sleeve. Having a man on the inside was a good idea.

Having two was even better.

Especially if one of them didn't even know it.

He watched Leah talking with the only two people in the world she trusted, and he allowed himself a smile.

Soon, Ms. DeGarmo. Soon the entire world will know about your powers.

And I'll be the one controlling them.

About the Author.

A life-long resident of New York's haunted Hudson Valley, JG Faherty has been a finalist for both the Bram Stoker Award and ITW Thriller Award, and he is the author of six novels, seven novellas, and more than 50 short stories. He writes adult and YA dark fiction/sci-fi/fantasy, and his works range from quiet suspense to over-the-top comic gruesomeness. He enjoys urban exploring, photography, cla.s.sic B-movies, good wine, and pumpkin beer. As a child, his favorite playground was a 17th-century cemetery, which many people feel explains a lot. You can follow him at and www.jgfaherty.com.

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