Read Online Inhuman by Eileen Wilks - Free Book Online Page B

weird. They're usually eager to give me their names, their stories. He did give me a picture—this place, filled with people like it is now. So here I am."
    "He?" Maybe the message was from her father. A twist of longing tugged at her, because she wanted that to be true.
    "Definitely he, though that's about all I know about him. 'Get her out of there,' he said."
    "Who?"
    "I don't know. Dammit, you'd think… but it's got to be either you or Ginger. I don't know anyone else here well."
    "If something bad is going to happen—"
    "See, that's just the thing. People think those on the other side have all this insight into events here, when half the time they don't have a clue. But… well, if a message is really specific, there's usually something to it."
    Charley stepped up to the mike. His soothing voice drifted out over the crowd as he welcomed them, and the colorful soup began to settle.
    "I take it this one's specific?"
    "As such things go, yeah." Jackie chewed on her lip. "I'd better tell Ginger, too. Do you know where she is?"
    "Up at the front. She's supposed to speak."
    "Shit. She won't want to leave."
    "I'll go with you."
    "No, you won't. You'll leave, then I'll have one less to worry about. Go on." Jackie gave her a little push. "Go."
    But once she was turned around, Kai saw what Jackie had come to warn about. Though the colors around the crowd had canned, a small group of men—maybe twenty—kept to themselves off to one side. Kai didn't like the look of their thoughts or the murky swirl they swam in.
    "Jackie," she started, turning around—but her friend was gone, swallowed up in people.
    It was Kai's turn for some lip chewing. Earlier she'd seen a couple of police officers over by the Midland Center, the brick building whose wall made one boundary for the plaza. Maybe she should find them, see if she could persuade them there was trouble brewing. Or maybe… no,, dammit. Don't even think about it .
    Telling herself not to think about something was hopeless, of course. Don't think about an elephant inevitably conjures the image of an elephant. Once it occurred to Kai that she might be able to stop the ugliness before it erupted by calming those thoughts, she couldn't banish the idea by telling herself to drop it.
    Okay, then. Consider it logically, pros and cons, she told herself as she began weaving through the packed bodies, heading for the Midland Center.
    The pro was that she might be able to prevent violence. The con was—well, there were several. First, ugly thoughts didn't necessarily lead to violence. Second, she had no idea what she might do to any minds she tampered with. That was a good reason, an excellent reason, not to interfere. Third, she didn't even know if she could do it.
    "Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live!" someone yelled from the back of the crowd.
    Kai turned—and those thoughts were roiling now, seething with colors that made her think of storms and blood. There were more shouts, the volume and venom in them mounting every second.
    Someone cried out in startlement or fear, someone else in anger. Kai couldn't see what was happening, but the people near her started moving—most trying to get away from the commotion at the rear, some shoving their way toward the trouble. She heard Charley's amplified voice telling everyone to stay calm, stay calm, but no one was listening.
    She heard screams.
    And the patterns—! The air was thick with the bleached yellow of fear, rippling with electric green and swirls of dark ocher, darker gray, mud brown. The wrongness of the patterns sucked at her. Kai breathed in raggedly—and let herself go, falling into fugue. She had to try—
    Someone bumped her, hard. She fell against another someone, which kept her from hitting the ground, and found herself engulfed in a moving knot of people. An elbow jabbed her ribs. She heard screams, cries, yelling., Panic sent her heartbeat rocketing. She fought to keep her feet.
    Suddenly she found herself in a pocket