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I nodded, not mentioning where I’d gotten the information, though I was sure she knew it was Tegan. Hansen didn’t need to know everything.
We followed her up a flight of stairs and into a small room that looked like any hospital room, except this wasn’t a regular hospital. On the bed lay a young man, motionless and still, except for his eyes. Exactly like Jake.
“This is Michael Phillipson,” Dr. Morris told us as she walked over to the bed, checking his vitals. “I sent his parents out to get some food. I’m waiting here with him. This is Maggie, Michael,” she told the kid. “She’s a mender. You’ve heard of them, right?”
I walked closer, seeing the boy’s eyes following me. He was younger than Jake, probably still in high school. I knew of his family. The Phillipsons had lived in Ashport for generations, several of them having abilities that made them affiliates. Even many of those without were seen as affiliates. Their abilities tended to differ, though, as many affiliates had married into the family over the years.
“Hello, Michael,” I said as I stood next to him. “I’ve been talking to someone with the same problem as you today.” I looked at Dr. Morris and she nodded. Likely, Mona had called her the minute I left the house. That was good.
I went on, getting him to respond with the same blinking Jake had to resort to. However, having gone through it once before, it didn’t take that long this time.
“Were you attacked by a masked man, who hit you before this happened to you? And did he render you unable to speak before he did this?” I asked. Getting those details simply by yes and no questions had led to some unrelated queries for Jake, but we’d gotten there in the end.
Michael blinked once. I almost thought I saw relief in his eyes as well. I nodded and looked at the doctor. “Same thing that happened to Jake. It can’t be a coincidence.”
“What exactly is this?” Hansen interrupted. I’d forgotten he was in the room a moment.
Dr. Morris tipped her head to the side, looking at the boy. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it’s locked-in syndrome, but—”
“So it has a name,” I said.
“Yeah, but that’s not contagious, though, is it?” Hansen asked. Apparently, he had heard of it. “You keep talking about another case.”
“No, it’s usually caused by brain damage, poison, stroke…things like that,” Dr. Morris explained. “Which is why I don’t think that’s really what this is. Not when it concerns affiliates and not two healthy young men.”
“Someone’s doing this to them,” I clarified. “Do you know what Michael’s affiliation is?” I asked Dr. Morris, hoping his parents had told her. Luckily, she nodded.
“Yes. Michael here can compel people’s bodies to do his bidding.”
I smacked my tongue. Another dangerous ability. If he’d been free from his own body prison, he could have forced my body to walk straight out the window and fall to my death. My brain might have protested all it wanted, and all to no avail. I hoped his parents had instilled good morals in the kid.
“Jake can control people’s thoughts,” I said. There seemed to be a pattern here.
“Wait, that’s a thing?” Hansen blurted, instantly holding his hands up when we looked at him. “Never mind. Pretend I’m not here.”
“The Phillipsons have a long history here,” I continued. “Do you know of any of them with a similar ability? As in terms of danger, I mean.”
Dr. Morris shook her head and I noticed Michael blinking twice. That narrowed things down at least. Someone was targeting affiliates with dangerous abilities. Abilities that could cause severe harm from the wrong person. From what I’d seen so far, though, the victims were normal people. Normal people locked inside themselves. That had to stop, I decided, as I truly understood why Gerard had made me look into this despite everything else going on.
Chapter 6
“A mender,huh? Some sort of fixer?” Hansen said as we got back in the car. He made me think of a clown car as he climbed in, his long limbs not really suited for the Beetle. With the seat further back, though, he seemed to sit comfortably when first inside. Dressed in dark jeans, blue shirt, and a black jacket, he looked more laid back than he actually was. The badge and the dark blue tie said otherwise, though the tie being loosened around his neck made me smile.
“Not the kind of types you guys are used to dealing with,” I said. “I don’t sell anything or remove anyone. I merely try to help.”
“How many of you are there?”
“Only me at the moment,” I answered, suddenly missing Freddy very much. He’d been the mender in town before I showed up to share the job, up until the damn cops arrested him. I didn’t say anything about that, though. The less Hansen knew when it came to Freddy, the better. We had, after all, sprung him from the prison transport. But I did miss having another mender around. Sometimes being more than one person was a good thing. Though the affiliates were an effective support system, sometimes you simply needed help from someone with the right skillset. Normally, we could have dealt with each thing at this point.
“How many are there, usually?” Hansen continued.
“You know…you ask a lot of questions,” I said as I drove away from the hospice.
“Well…you’re finally answering some of them.”
There were limits, though. But I had tried keeping everything under wraps and that didn’t work with this guy. Maybe he couldn’t help himself because of what he did for a living. The fact that he’d picked up on something about me meant he was good at noticing things, too. It wasn’t like I had a sign on my forehead announcing my affiliation. The fact he’d been investigating me, though…that had caught me off guard. Mostly because I knew that would have involved McAllen, and I couldn’t believe he’d be bothered enough to do that. Still, that reminded me of the shooting.
“How is Detective McAllen?” I asked carefully, knowing it was a sore point as I had been at the scene when it happened.
