The Sarah Roberts Series Vol. 4-6 Read online

  Of course I would.

  The door buzzed and opened.

  Sarah slipped the note into her pants’ pocket and crossed her arms.

  Hank Frommer stepped inside the small room, followed by two armed guards. He eased the door closed behind him. He looked better than previous days, dressed in a corduroy jacket, beige slacks and spit-shined shoes.

  “What are you dressed up for?” Sarah asked. “We heading somewhere special?”

  He regarded her with half a smile. His eyes narrowed as he looked her up and down. A creep vibe coursed through her. Or maybe he brought the cyanide he’d prepared for her untimely demise and that was why he needed his two guards for muscle.

  Just try it, she thought. The knowledge of your wife would die with me.

  Her hands clenched, feet ready to spring.

  “Rod Howley called,” Hank said at last.

  Sarah uncoiled. “What’d he want?”

  Hank hadn’t talked to her all week. Nothing about Drake Bellamy, nothing about her parents or if anyone was looking for her. She was cut off from society down here. She hadn’t seen the sun for a week and had no idea what the hell was happening topside.

  The armed men moved closer, flanking her. Hank must’ve brought them because he had something disturbing to tell her and wanted to know he’d leave the room in one piece. Or they had a plan for her that she wouldn’t agree with. There was no good reason for them to be here, any way she looked at it.

  “He wanted you,” Hank said.

  “Me?” Sarah asked, eyebrows raised. “What would he want with little old me?”

  “Come on, Sarah.” Hank leaned back against the wall by the door and rested on his shoulder blades. “We both know that Rod lied to us about you, trying to pass you off as having no abilities. After what you did for me this week, we know that’s not true. What we want to know is why he would do that.” He raised his index finger and waved it. “You don’t know Rod like I do. He’s dedicated. A company man. Nothing could sway him. So tell me, what do you have on him?”

  Sarah shook her head. “You sicken me.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Instead of fighting your kind, I decided to let you in. We have a deal. You see what I can do and we work together for the good of mankind and yada yada. But instead, I’m locked up for a week in this bunker with no contact with the outside. I’m your little prisoner. Then Rod wants to see what’s happening and you think that’s on me. I have no idea why Mr. Howley would lie about my abilities. Maybe he knows you’re an asshole. Maybe he knows I would be subjected to this kind of treatment and wanted to spare me from the likes of you. It’s not my job to figure it out. I didn’t employ Rod. You guys did. You figure it out.”

  Hank pushed off the wall. “Fair enough. Got any notes for me?”

  Sarah glared at him, in no mood to help right now. “No.”

  She knew she would tell him eventually, but not until she was ready. Especially not when she was angry. She had to take the power back, even if it was a little at a time.

  “Really?” he asked. “Not even a little message? No expectant mothers about to have an accident, no kids with knives or guards that need a doctor …”

  “Did you attend to my notes personally?” Sarah asked.

  “Each and every one.”

  She stepped closer. Both guards moved with her in unison. Hank waved them down.

  “How did they turn out?” she asked.

  “You were bang on. Not a single person deviated from what you said. To be honest, I’m amazed. You’re the best little psychic we’ve ever had.”

  “Great. So when do we leave?”

  The door to the room buzzed then opened. Hank stepped over and leaned against it. “We don’t leave. When you dry up and there’s no more messages, that’s when you leave … in a body bag.”

  “What?” She hated it when someone felt they could threaten her so easily, as if they were talking about the weather.

  While Hank leaned on the door, his guards edged even closer. “You didn’t think we could ever let someone like you loose on the streets, did you? You have the ability to change the future. We can’t have that. We want to study you, get you to foretell future political events.”

  If she lunged for him, she wouldn’t make it. All he had to do was slip out and slam the door. She wouldn’t get three steps before the guards were on her.

  “What about the five messages I gave you this week?” Sarah asked, her jaw tightening.

  “I already told you, they came true.”

  Then she realized what Hank had done as she studied his eyes. He had allowed the prophecies to go … unchecked. The muscles in her face slackened with the realization. Hank was a monster. That he could allow the expectant mother to have her car accident, the boy with the knife, those women in the hospital, his own guard …

  “That’s right,” he broke into her thoughts. “They all happened as you predicted.” He grabbed a couple of newspapers from outside the door, then turned back to her. “Here, read these. It’s the North Bay Nugget. They ran three of the five stories you warned us about.” He moved back into the room a couple of feet. “Now, give me another prophecy today and maybe I’ll let you keep breathing. In the meantime, as Rod’s employer, I’ll go find out why he didn’t do his job with you. I’ll go ‘figure it out,’ as you told me to.”

  Hank’s voice grated on Sarah’s nerves. She didn’t want to hear him anymore. Tears welled in her eyes and her stomach felt like a bowl of rocks.

  How could he let my messages go unchecked? That’s not what they were for.

  All week, message after message, she’d thought he was helping people, saving them from their own fate. Instead, he had sat on the sidelines and watched the pain and suffering like it was his own personal morbid show. Her faith in humanity, or her understanding of it, sunk so low in that moment, she wondered why she bothered.

  “It’s okay, Sarah,” Hank said. “If those events were supposed to happen to those people at those set times, then who are we to step in and change that? You may be able to see the future, but we aren’t God. We don’t get the right to alter it. That’s the foundation of our organization. We hunt real psychics to quell them. Eventually you will die down here, Sarah Roberts, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. Not you, not me, not even God.”

  Hank’s armed men headed for the door and slipped out. Hank smiled and waved goodbye to her like they were old friends.

  She moved with speed and agility, making it two steps before Hank reacted. Then she dove for him, hands outstretched. Hank disappeared behind the door, slamming it. The familiar buzz of the lock engaged as she hit the floor and rolled, the breath momentarily knocked out of her.

  “We’ll see about that, Hank,” she said between breaths. “We’ll see who dies down here.”

  Chapter 2

  Sarah curled up in the corner of her cell and wrapped her arms around her legs. She wondered why she was here in the first place and how her sister, Vivian, had let it happen. What was the purpose of life when there were people like Hank Frommer? Was it Vivian’s fault? Why give Sarah five messages for Hank just to have them come true and secure her in this hellhole? Weren’t they supposed to help people?

  Sarah understood that there was too much carnage in the world to help everybody, but she could make a difference, even if that difference was small. Every bit counted. That’s why she did what she did. When Vivian sent a message through her, she complied. Maybe the people she helped weren’t supposed to have bad things happen to them, but by some odd twist of fate, they got stuck in front of the fate train.

  In the past, Sarah had helped strangers avoid being kidnapped, tortured, raped, beat up and even broke up a human trafficking ring. She had done good deeds and freed numerous people from the shackles of evil, performing random acts of kindness times a million. But all it ever got her was more vileness. Maybe that was the balance. Maybe she had to deal with the filth and scum so the people she liberated
didn’t have to. If that was the case, she was okay with it. Over the years she had grown stronger, better able to deal with it.

  But Hank Frommer was a different animal. He was smart and powerful. Most of her adversaries were small-time crooks, running from the law, making mistakes, afraid of doing the time. Hank worked for the American government in a black project that put massive resources and people at his disposal. Unless Sarah could out-think Hank, she would die at his hands.

  She jumped at the door buzzer. Men filed in, one after another, until she counted eight. All armed, they stood in a semi-circle with the open door between them.

  “What?” Sarah asked. “You don’t think you have enough men? A 120-pound girl to eight armed men. Wow, you guys really are pussies.”

  To their credit, none of them budged.

  The door opened wider, and Hank stepped in.

  “Give it to me,” he said.

  “Give you what?”

  “Don’t make me take it by force. I may not be able to control my men. Some of them have urges, working down here night and day.”

  Sarah smiled. “I have urges too. I see one cock, I break it and kill the man who showed it to me. I get touched inappropriately, I break the hand that touched me. Those are my urges. So, let’s see whose urges are stronger, shall we?”

  “Hold up,” Hank said. “We aren’t here to see who has bigger balls. We all know what you can do. I was there the night we picked you up, remember? All I want is the note in your pocket.”

  Sarah checked the corners and upper ceiling. She couldn’t see any cameras.

  How did he know?

  “The cameras are hidden,” Hank said. “We’ve been watching you the whole time.”

  That meant they’d seen her sleep, bathe and use the toilet.

  “You sick bastard.”

  “Sarah, come on, don’t be foolish. There’s no way we couldn’t watch you. You’ve been on suicide watch since you came in here.”

  She pushed her back up the wall to stand. “Why would you have me on suicide watch? I’m not going to kill myself.”

  “Do you know how many psychics we lose down here after they realize they’re never going to the surface or back home. More than half of them do it for us. But you, no, I want you to last a while longer.”

  “Fuck you, Hank. I mean that. Really, fuck you.”

  “Poetic. Sweet. Sincere. Now, give me the note or I will take it.”

  Four men broke from their rigid positions and moved within a foot of her. Two of the men were sweating as if they were afraid. One of them had a cold stare, and the other looked dead behind his eyes, like he’d shut down years before.

  Sarah reached for her pocket. A couple of guards flinched, their hands sliding up their weapons.

  “Take it easy,” Sarah said. “I’m just getting the note.”

  She reached into her pocket slowly so she didn’t get shot by a nervous trigger finger. When the paper was in her grasp, she pulled it out and rolled it into the palm of her hand.

  “Hank, I have to warn you about this one.”

  “Just give it to me.”

  “No, on this one, you need me.”

  “Yeah, sure, nice try. Hand it over.”

  “Hank, listen. Remember what you said earlier about not changing the future? About not altering fate? We’re not God. Remember you said that? Well, I think you’ll need to reconsider.”

  “Hand it over or it will be taken from you. You’re out of options, Sarah.”

  “It’s about your wife.”

  That stopped him. It was subtle. His head rose a notch, eyes widened, and his nostrils flared, then it was gone. “Is this a joke? Did you write it, or Vivian?”

  “Check the cameras. You saw me write the note. That means you can reference the last five days and see what state I was in when writing the notes that came true. In my automatic writing state, I black out. I can’t fake what I don’t know how to do.”

  He extended his palm. “The note.”

  Sarah handed it to the man closest to her. He walked over to Hank and passed it off without looking at it.

  Hank unfolded the paper and scanned the writing. He looked up, his eyes glazed.

  “Are you saying this is real?” Hank asked.

  Sarah nodded.

  “And to fix this, I need to take you with me? Just like it says here?”

  She nodded again.

  “No,” he said. “No, it won’t go down like that. Because if something happens to my wife, then I will kill you, Sarah Roberts. You will cease to be of use to me.” His voice cracked with emotion, but he collected himself fast, afraid or unwilling to show emotion in front of the troops. He backed out of the door, his men following one by one.

  A moment later, alone, Sarah realized she had touched the one thing that got inside Hank. He did have the capacity to love. He did love. When it came to his job, like most men, he compartmentalized it. Hurting and killing people was what he was paid to do. At his job, people were something that had to be dealt with. Anywhere else, people were someone. When he was at home, that someone was special, which was entirely different.

  Was it enough to get Sarah out of her prison? Would he reconsider taking her along?

  Something inside told her he wouldn’t and that she would never see the sun again.

  Or anyone she loved.

  Chapter 3

  An alarm sounded in the complex somewhere down the corridor. With no clock in her cell, the only concept of time Sarah had was lights out, which happened every evening. In the mornings, her cell lights would flicker to life. Currently, her cell had been dark for at least most of the night. The alarm resounding throughout the complex startled her awake.

  Footsteps pounded down the hall outside her door. Someone shouted. Another alarm, closer, chimed in, adding to the cacophony.

  If it was a fire, would they release her or let her burn in her prison?

  She stretched to awaken her muscles and got to her feet. After feeling her way to the door in the dark, she waited. She would use the chaos to her advantage and make a break for it if they opened her door.

  Someone ran by outside her door. Another man shouted. Her stomach clenched. Every passing second meant they weren’t coming for her.

  Would Hank let his prized psychic go that easily? Sadly, she realized he probably would. It would save him from having to kill her himself.

  The door buzzed. It opened slightly, letting in light from the corridor.

  The tip of a gun entered first. Sarah waited. She needed to see the hand, the arm of her visitor, something she could break.

  The door slowed, and then stopped. Sarah got ready, but she wasn’t prepared for the door slamming inward. It happened so fast it caught her unawares, banged her arm and shoved her off balance. She dropped to one knee, spun around and quickly recovered, getting back to her feet.

  Two men stood in the open door. Hank and one of his guards. The guard held the gun.

  “What’s this?” Sarah shouted over the noise of the alarm in the hallway outside the open door. “Gonna use a bullet instead of cyanide? Coward!”

  There was enough light to see the look on Hank’s face. He was surprised she knew about the cyanide. He tapped the guard on the shoulder and stepped around him.

  “Come with us, Sarah,” he shouted as he reached out his hand.

  “Fuck you,” she yelled back.

  “Sarah, I need your help. I’ll explain on the way. There’s a helicopter waiting for us. Now, please, we’re running out of time.”

  He edged closer. She ran through her options. Whether he was taking her to be killed or not, she was dead anyway. If he was telling her the truth and there really was a helicopter, this was her best chance at escape.

  “Tell dick head over there to put his gun away and I’ll come peacefully.”

  “The gun isn’t for you,” Hank yelled, his hand still extended.

  “What?”

  “The gun is for anyone who gets in our way.
Now, come on.”

  Hank turned for the door and checked the hall. He looked back at her and gestured for her to follow, then left, not waiting to see if she was coming.

  It hit her like a slap in the face. Hank was breaking her out.

  Sarah moved. She followed the two men down a couple of corridors and toward an elevator. Hank swiped a card in the reader by the elevator door and a little light flashed green.

  Wet spots had formed under Hank’s armpits. He brushed aside the wet hair resting on his brow.