Read Accused (Ganzfield) for Free Online Page B

the building. What would his next tactic be? I drifted in a sleepless stupor, unable to fully rest because of that cursed, cursed song, as images of waterboarding danced through my head.
    Hey, turn down the music!
    Light seemed to fill my mind, like someone had hit the switch. I’d never been so happy to hear Seth’s thoughts. SETH? Where are you? Is Trevor with you? Is he okay? I couldn’t see anything through his eyes—he must have shut them to concentrate, since we were just barely in range of each other, even with his strong ability.
    Trevor’s here. He’s fine, but he’s worried about you… and I had to listen to all his emo crap for the entire drive over from New Hampshire. Your mind feels like hell, by the way. We’re parked outside the perimeter fence, but we can’t stay long. The next sentry is going to spot us in about three minutes if we’re still here. We’re not going to be.
    Seth, they’ve got cameras everywhere. I can’t blast anyone without leaving proof. The security locks use a code, a card-swipe, and a fingerprint scan, so I think I’m stuck.
    Coleman’s filed a bunch of legal motions for you. This Paul Hunter has a lot of leeway. He’s told them you’re some kind of domestic terrorist and you’ve got access to weapons of mass destruction. And he’s really paranoid about keeping himself isolated on this base so we can’t get a charm anywhere near him. Coleman’s trying to force him to bring you in front of a judge, but Hunter’s stonewalling, so it may take a while.
    Yeah. He’s trying to get me to talk. Seth’s laughter as that registered made me grin,  but the stabbing pain by my ear wiped the expression from my face.
    Wait, you need to know! I sent him all the information I’d pulled from Hunter’s mind—his plans for attacking Ganzfield and how someone named “Dale” was slowing him down. Seth started to ping with protective anxiety as he processed it all, and the plan for a helicopter attack filled him with remembered dread.
    Massacre.
    “Time.” I heard Drew’s voice through Seth’s mind.
    We gotta go. Behave yourself, brat.
    Thanks for coming, narc. Tell Trevor… tell Trevor, “I know him better than they do.”
    Seth’s exasperation at being asked to carry a romantic message to another guy huffed through me. We’ll try to get back, if we can.
    I’ll be off of dodecamine in less than a week.
    Then it’ll be a one-way conversation—but we’re not leaving you here all alone. Seth’s last thought drained away as the vehicle moved out of range. I leaned back against the wall, pulling my legs up and hugging them against my chest. Hope sparkled within me and a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth, in spite of the blaring music. Trevor was safe. I’d warned the Ganzfield people of Hunter’s plans. Coleman would get me in front of a judge and I knew he’d be able to charm that judge into letting me go. They were working on getting me out. Relief washed over me.
    In spite of the music, I drifted to sleep. I wasn’t “All By Myself” after all.

    After two more days of Hunter’s unique brand of music therapy, the rekindled hope from talking to Seth was gone. Day and night became meaningless terms—in my windowless, subterranean prison, my only time cues came from other people’s heads. The younger female guard brought me food twice a day, and Hunter came in to ask questions at some point in between the servings of goo. The music was turned off during his visits, but a whiny ringing took its place in the silence.
    Sleeplessness AND tinnitus—what a joy to be me.
    On Sunday, the music stayed on without interruption because it was Hunter’s “day of rest.” The same two female guards came to take me to the shower again. They were already in the hall by the time I noticed them—my mental range must be shortening. I’d been in custody for just over a week now and the realization that the dodecamine was leaving my system flared panic through my