Chapter 11

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"What happened?" Sheshai asked. It had been an hour since Ernest's stroke, and she had done everything possible with her limited resources. He refused hospitalization and fought her efforts to stop him sitting upright. The minor acquiescence she won was his drinking some water.

"I don't know. Let me see the names." He reviewed his writing. "That's right. The first one set off the fireworks; the others were on bikes. Get this to the government."
"Wait a moment."

"No wait. Now. The FBI needs to start surveillance as soon as possible."

"Okay, but we need to think about this first. It's only three names."

"It was three names they found in the first eight hours. You yourself said that they should be able to find the other two with this. Call them. That's an order."

"An order? You're ordering me?"

"Uh, okay," Graham said, pushing his chair back with baby steps towards his desk.

"Listen." Sheshai raised a hand. "Let's wait a few hours, test the information, and see what comes of it. I'm concerned about you. What happened? What were you doing at the time?"

"Nothing. We were having breakfast. We had the names, we were celebrating, and it was eleven o'clock, two days after the attack." A pause before, "Just like the last time."

"What do you mean, the last time?"

He stalled with a sip of water, not speaking until he placed the cup on the dresser. "The first time, when all this started, I thought it was real. I watched the news and donated some money to local charities. The next day, I went to work as normal. Both times, at the same time, I felt like my life was ripped out of me. I think... I think that's the moment I die."

Sheshai shook her head. "No. I don't believe that."

"You wouldn't. You wouldn't want to."

"It's probably just a coincidence. Look, we got what we need. Just get some rest."

"No, I need to find out what's going on. I need to go back."

"No, you need to rest. We still don't know how you do what you do, and if this time was different, we have to understand why. What do you remember about the sensation?"

"It's like someone or some force was pushing me out of my body. I can't explain it. It was like my soul being knocked out," he said, tapping his left shoulder.

Graham returned with an arched eyebrow. "A heart attack?"

"No, that's the direction I was pushed from." He pointed with a pen to illustrate.

"Diagonal on your arm? That's pretty specific. Where were you?"

"Sitting in that chair."

Graham headed to his computer as Sheshai asked. "What are you thinking?"

Ignoring her, he called over his shoulder, "Where did you feel it, the first time?"

"Like I was pushed from the back."

"If this was science fiction," Graham said, "I'd say some force caused your abilities, but we won't know until we pinpoint the origin, and we can't do that without more data."

Sheshai glared at Graham. "You want him to go back."

"I don't want him to, but he has to."

"He's not strong enough. We wait a day or two, let him recuperate."

"I'm fine," Ernest said, "and now that we know what to expect, you can prepare for it."

"He isn't strong enough to handle it," she whispered.

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