Fellowship Lost, Ch 32, Pt 2

"Oo ga t' ill im."

The words were strained as though they had scant breath behind them, and Dina's ears were still ringing with shock. Still, she understood what he was saying. It echoed her intentions of just moments before. I've got to kill him.

But not this man.

The voice pleading with her was speaking in Zach's gravelly tones. The emaciated figure lying motionless on the hospital bed wore her father's distinctive features—the same blue eyes, same square jaw, same high forehead. Scarred but unmistakable. So unmistakable, Dina had nearly taken his life with a lightening bolt to the brain. She had halted only long enough to rub salt in the old bastard's wounds.

A desire to have the last word. That was all that had stood between minutes of continued existence for the man in the bed and final oblivion.

No, this was not Zach Karson, but she wasn't sure she shouldn't kill him anyway.

Like Treece and Reid Teller. Like Mun and Tem. But instead of borrowing James's sight, Zach had high-jacked the young man's entire body. If any psy was capable of it, her father was.

"James?"

His head did not turn, though his eyes strained sideways in their sockets to look at her. She leaned over his face. "What happened, James?"

She had second thoughts about the question as soon as it left her lips. What or how hardly mattered now. She wrapped her fingers around his forearm and shook it, the hand flopping uselessly at the end of a nerveless wrist. "Forget that! Where is he? Where's Zach? Has he gone to find Lorin, James? Tell me."

She felt the rapping on her wall like fists pummeling rubber. She dropped her mental barriers, but kept herself primed for an attack. She was frantic but not foolish.

i do not know dont know dont know oh shit probably he is obsessed i thought i was going to drug him unconscious while he slept i woke up like this trapped oh the rats the rats  the goddamned filthy freaking hungry raaaats.  

Dina drilled at her temples with clenched knuckles, desperate to stem the terror filling her head. "Shut up," she snapped. "Get a hold of yourself. I need you, James." She stared into his eyes, trying to find the young man buried inside. "Lorin needs you."
His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

i cant move.  

"I don't care."

It is so hard to breathe im dying he unplugged everything help me.  

"Focus, damn it. Has Zach gone to find Lorin? Lorin! Get a grip or I swear I'll finish what he started, James. If he lays a finger on my baby—wearing your skin, wearing your smile—I'll take my time! I'll be creative. You'll be begging me to die."

She grabbed his shoulders and lifted them off the stained mattress. "James!" His head flopped back, his mouth falling open in a toothless maw. She could smell the stink of rot on his breath. She didn't realize she was shaking him, was breaking bones, until she heard muffled pops.

He squealed inside her brain, louder than before.

i will help stop please please i will pleaaaaase...  

She dropped him, his head falling at an angle, one eye buried in the pillow, the other corkscrewing to find her. His mouth twitched. "Lo," he gasped. "Luf Lo."

"Prove it."

The shadows in the room seemed to deepen even as she watched; the afternoon was waning beyond the drawn window shade. She heard a distant grumble of thunder. Time was sliding from her grasp, the zeroes on her scorecard taunting each lost second.

"Start, James. Tell me something that matters."