Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Gabe heard voices. Men and women were talking excitedly.
“It’s a miracle.”
“He was dead.” That last was from the one who’d been working on him, trying frantically to bring him back to life. Somehow, he remembered that. He also knew that the man was a doctor.
Gabe tried to breathe, but a coughing fit overtook him.
“Easy. You’ve had a pretty rough time.”
He knew that much. But he struggled to figure out what exactly had happened.
Memories seeped into his mind. He’d been tied down in a cell back at Smith’s house.
His captor had come in with a hypodermic and jabbed him in the arm.
Then everything went black until he woke up to feel the rocking of a boat.
They were out on the water, and the wind in his face helped revive him.
He saw Olivia a few yards away. She looked as dazed as he felt.
Then the men were doing something to him, lacing something heavy and clunky around his ankles.
Before he could figure out what was going on, he was hoisted up and over the side.
He hit the water with a tremendous splash and started to sink.
He’d tried to fight to the surface, but it was no good. He kept sinking, and the terrible need to breathe made him gasp for air and drag in water. Then everything was black again.
His last thoughts had been of failure. He had found Travis’s killer, but nobody else would ever know it.
Worst of all, he had failed Olivia. He realized now that he should have left her out of his investigation.
But he’d dragged her along, and Smith’s men had thrown her over the side, too.
She didn’t deserve to die. Or maybe Travis could save her.
He’d clung to that hope as consciousness fled.
And then all at once, he was awake again, feeling the heat of the sun on his face and the motion of a boat on water.
He saw men and women gathered around him. The first word he spoke was, “Olivia.”
He heard her gasp his name. “Gabe? You’re alive!”
And then a jumble of thoughts and sensations rushed in. His own thoughts, and also not his. The confusion would have been enough to drive him mad—if he’d let it overpower him.
Steady. Everything’s going to be okay. Was that Olivia speaking inside his head, the way she’d done with Travis? How was that possible?
What? What the hell is happening? He raised his hand to his head, pressing against his temple, fighting a headache that threatened to drag him down as surely as the sea had done.
What happened to me? What’s happening now?”
A silent voice answered. Not Olivia. Someone else. I pulled you back. I’m sorry, but it was the only way to save you.
Sorry? Why should you be sorry?
I’m here with you. It was the only way I could do it.
Travis?
Yes.
Where are you? How can you talk to me like this?
Because I’m in you. I’m part of you. Or you’re part of me. I don’t know how to say it any better. At least not yet.
Gabe tried to wrap his head around that. What are you saying?
You...died. They pulled you up, but Matt couldn’t revive you.
Who is Matt?
Matt Delano. He’s a doctor. He’s one of the children from the Solomon Clinic.
A jolt of panic sizzled through Gabe. He had to be going mad. This couldn’t be happening. Whatever this was.
He felt a hand clasp his and looked up to see Olivia leaning over him.
“You made it,” she murmured. “Other victims of the Solomon Clinic rescued us. We’re on their boat, going back to St. Stephens.”
At the mention of the town, panic flared. “Smith will find us.”
“No. He thinks we’re at the bottom of the bay. And we’re going to take care of him.”
Before he could focus on that, Travis spoke to him, mind to mind in that new weird way.
Do you understand what’s happened?
Did he?
You were dead.
Someone had said that before. I was dead? He tried to wrap his head around that and failed.
If I was dead, how am I here?
My spirit...infused you—brought you back to life. I’m with you. In your body. In your mind.
Maybe it was finally sinking in. He could either accept the reality of what had happened or he could go mad. He chose sanity.
Thank God. The exclamation came from both Olivia and Travis, and somehow, that was what he needed to ground himself.
He tried to sit up, but the one who was a doctor—Matt Delano—put a hand on his shoulder. “Just lie here for a while. You’ve been through a pretty nasty ordeal.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” he muttered.
Someone had slipped a pillow under his head and covered him with a blanket. He closed his eyes, drifting to the motion of the boat. The familiar motion.
Familiar? What did he know about boats? Not much. But Travis did.
I’ll leave you alone now, the other consciousness inside his brain said.
How could Travis ever leave him alone? He was here with him. He struggled to work that out, but the effort to slog his way through it was currently too much.
He was holding Olivia’s hand, clinging to her as if she could make sense of everything for him.
Vaguely, he knew there were things he should say to her, but he wasn’t sure they were the right things.
He wasn’t sure what to worry about first. His relationship with her?
Or his relationship with his life? Was he still a Decorah agent, or what?
At the moment, it was all too much. He would have to make sense of everything later.
Right now, he couldn’t even cling to consciousness.