Mind Control: A Science Fiction Telepathy Thriller (Perceivers Book 2) by Jane Killick Page A
Authors: Jane Killick
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Michael. You perceive that, right?”
It had been a long time since Michael had looked into Hodges’s mind to find out his motives, but when he had, he had found no malice there. He decided to trust him. “Good night, Hodges.”
“Good night, Michael.”
Hodges walked off to wherever he had parked his own car. Michael watched him go, reflecting on how tough it must be for him to serve two masters.
CHAPTER SIX
THE FIRST RAYS of the sun woke Michael, prodding him from sleep like an alarm clock that had been set too early. He felt the grogginess of semi-consciousness for one blissful moment before he decided to move and the bruises on his back complained with a spasm of pain that ran down his spine, into his pelvis, and up into his skull.
He groaned.
Sleeping in the back seat of a car was not the best medicine for someone caught in a bomb blast. But it had the advantage of being gloriously quiet. He opened his mind further and perceived the silence. He was cocooned in an emptiness where no one was lying awake worrying, or missing their family, or having inappropriate sexual thoughts about an actress from the television. He was alone with his own thoughts and it was beautiful.
He also needed a pee. Michael struggled to sit up in the car, his back complaining with each muscle movement. The blanket was caught up round his feet and required several kicks to get the damn thing off him. “Ow, ow, ow!” he said to himself.
Finally, he was able to shuffle along the seat, open the door and step out into the fresh air to taste clean oxygen. His breath turned to vapour as he exhaled into the open air. It had been a clear night, causing the temperatures to drop and bring a frost, which the early morning sun was already burning away. In the brightness of daylight, the car park seemed like a tarmac field, stretching out to the hedge boundary, big enough for a game of football. Hodges’s car sat like a molehill in its space, metres distant from the twenty-or-so other military molehills which had been parked there for the night. In the shade of several towering trees, a row of khaki jeeps reminded him of the many bumpy trips he’d taken in them to reach ghastly military exercises on Salisbury Plain.
Michael walked away from them to the nearest hedge where he unzipped his trousers and released his bladder with that glorious sensation of physical relief. A stream of yellow urine arched into the undergrowth, discharging its warmth in vapour that rose into the air with a musty human smell. As he squeezed the last urine from inside of him, the presence of another mind crept into the edge of his perception. He hadn’t been paying attention and the mind was suddenly close. Along with the smell of coffee.
He turned.
Pauline stood there, all in black like he had first seen her, with a steaming mug in her hand. Her gaze automatically dropped to his groin.
“Shit!” said Michael, caught by surprise, grabbing his willy and shoving it back in his trousers. Heat coloured his cheeks.
Pauline was grinning. “Morning,” she said.
“Don’t you knock?” said Michael.
She looked around the half empty car park, closed a fist and rapped on thin air. “Like this?”
“Ha bloody ha.” His face still felt as red as an over-ripe tomato and he knew she had probably perceived his embarrassment. He should never have let his guard down, even when he was alone.
“I brought you some coffee,” she said, holding out the mug. A twist of steam rose gently into the cold of the morning and it smelt like civilisation.
Michael took it and sipped. His whole body warmed at the prospect of coffee stimulation as he swallowed and tasted its welcome bitter earthiness. “How did you know I was out here?” he asked.
“Alex,” said Pauline.
“Alex?”
“He winked at me in a suggestive way this morning,” she said. “I thought he was hitting on me. Turns out he thought I was out with you all night.”
“Oh.” Michael laughed.
She didn’t
It had been a long time since Michael had looked into Hodges’s mind to find out his motives, but when he had, he had found no malice there. He decided to trust him. “Good night, Hodges.”
“Good night, Michael.”
Hodges walked off to wherever he had parked his own car. Michael watched him go, reflecting on how tough it must be for him to serve two masters.
CHAPTER SIX
THE FIRST RAYS of the sun woke Michael, prodding him from sleep like an alarm clock that had been set too early. He felt the grogginess of semi-consciousness for one blissful moment before he decided to move and the bruises on his back complained with a spasm of pain that ran down his spine, into his pelvis, and up into his skull.
He groaned.
Sleeping in the back seat of a car was not the best medicine for someone caught in a bomb blast. But it had the advantage of being gloriously quiet. He opened his mind further and perceived the silence. He was cocooned in an emptiness where no one was lying awake worrying, or missing their family, or having inappropriate sexual thoughts about an actress from the television. He was alone with his own thoughts and it was beautiful.
He also needed a pee. Michael struggled to sit up in the car, his back complaining with each muscle movement. The blanket was caught up round his feet and required several kicks to get the damn thing off him. “Ow, ow, ow!” he said to himself.
Finally, he was able to shuffle along the seat, open the door and step out into the fresh air to taste clean oxygen. His breath turned to vapour as he exhaled into the open air. It had been a clear night, causing the temperatures to drop and bring a frost, which the early morning sun was already burning away. In the brightness of daylight, the car park seemed like a tarmac field, stretching out to the hedge boundary, big enough for a game of football. Hodges’s car sat like a molehill in its space, metres distant from the twenty-or-so other military molehills which had been parked there for the night. In the shade of several towering trees, a row of khaki jeeps reminded him of the many bumpy trips he’d taken in them to reach ghastly military exercises on Salisbury Plain.
Michael walked away from them to the nearest hedge where he unzipped his trousers and released his bladder with that glorious sensation of physical relief. A stream of yellow urine arched into the undergrowth, discharging its warmth in vapour that rose into the air with a musty human smell. As he squeezed the last urine from inside of him, the presence of another mind crept into the edge of his perception. He hadn’t been paying attention and the mind was suddenly close. Along with the smell of coffee.
He turned.
Pauline stood there, all in black like he had first seen her, with a steaming mug in her hand. Her gaze automatically dropped to his groin.
“Shit!” said Michael, caught by surprise, grabbing his willy and shoving it back in his trousers. Heat coloured his cheeks.
Pauline was grinning. “Morning,” she said.
“Don’t you knock?” said Michael.
She looked around the half empty car park, closed a fist and rapped on thin air. “Like this?”
“Ha bloody ha.” His face still felt as red as an over-ripe tomato and he knew she had probably perceived his embarrassment. He should never have let his guard down, even when he was alone.
“I brought you some coffee,” she said, holding out the mug. A twist of steam rose gently into the cold of the morning and it smelt like civilisation.
Michael took it and sipped. His whole body warmed at the prospect of coffee stimulation as he swallowed and tasted its welcome bitter earthiness. “How did you know I was out here?” he asked.
“Alex,” said Pauline.
“Alex?”
“He winked at me in a suggestive way this morning,” she said. “I thought he was hitting on me. Turns out he thought I was out with you all night.”
“Oh.” Michael laughed.
She didn’t
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