going?'
Mark slung the camera's strap over his neck, wincing as it settled, but the hard resolve in his eyes didn't waver. 'I'm going out to take some photos. You have a problem with that?' He brushed past Jim and grabbed his jacket off the stand beside the door. With his left arm in a sling, he had to fumble with the coat to get it over his confined arm and slide his good arm into the sleeve.
Jim watched, keeping his urge to help under tight control as Mark managed to get his left hand out far enough to hang onto the edge of the coat to hold it steady so he could zip it. 'I thought that camera didn't work?'
Mark tugged on the zipper and then arranged the camera strap on the outside of his coat collar. 'It works just fine.' He paused and the muscle in his jaw jumped. 'It just doesn't give me future photos.'
'You knew that's what I meant.'
Eyes narrowed, Mark glanced at him. 'Yeah, but I thought you wanted confirmation. You want the truth? Here it is. I screwed up and I lost my ability. I'm not even sure why you're still hanging out around here. What value am I to you now?'
Mark's question hit him like a brick to the face. As much as he hated to admit it, without the possibility of foretelling of a future terrorist attack, Mark Taylor had no value as an asset. 'First of all, whether you get the ability back or not, no way do I believe that you screwed up. What you've already done as part of the Wrigley Field plot cements your place as an American hero-'
Mark scoffed before Jim could finish. 'Cut the crap, Jim. I'm just a regular guy, which is exactly what I wished for.' He opened the door and motioned with his chin for Jim to proceed him.
Jim shrugged and said with mild sarcasm, 'Despite your amazing abilities, you were only able to change the future, Mark, not the past. You saved a bunch of people, and in my book, that's a hero. You can't change that no matter what happens from here on out.'
The door clicked shut behind him and Jim measured his pace to allow Mark to keep up. Steps seemed to be harder for him to navigate than flat ground, and Jim slowed even more.
'I'm glad I'm done with it.' Mark released the handrail long enough to point towards the door at the bottom of the steps. 'Now if you could just tell all those folks hanging out by my door that the freak show is over, I'll be eternally grateful.'
Despite Mark's attempt to act like he didn't care, Jim could hear the pain in his voice. The guy was torn and Jim suspected that Mark didn't want to stop saving people, he just wanted to do it completely anonymously. He was at home behind the camera, not in front of the lens. Being a hero brought the risk of too much attention and that went against Mark's natural inclination to make others look good and just record history, not make it.
Jim nodded. 'I'll be glad to clear the way for you.'
Mark tried to ignore the crowd as he followed closely behind Jim, but when a woman thrust her baby at him, he reacted on instinct, cradling the baby girl with his good hand an instant before pushing her gently back into her mother's arms. 'Ma'am. Please take her. I don't want her to get hurt.'
The woman took her back, tears pouring down her face as she turned to others behind her and shouted, 'Did you hear that? He said he didn't want her to get hurt! That means my baby's heart will be fixed!'
Mark stopped, intending to correct the woman's assumption, but Jim turned and edged between the woman and Mark and with a hand to Mark's back urged him forward and said, 'Don't bother. Let her believe what she wants.'
'But she thinks I fixed the baby's heart. I can't let her believe that.'
'You have no control over it, unfortunately. What you can control is getting your ass into my car so I can get you the hell out of here.'
Mark hesitated. 'I was going to take the 'L' or maybe a cab.' The doctor hadn't cleared him to drive yet, but he hoped he'd get the okay in a week when he went back for a follow-up.
'Impossible. You'll be mobbed before you reach it. Just get in the damn car, Taylor.' Jim opened the door for him.
As the crowd surged towards him after the woman's pronouncement, Mark didn't need any more urging. He flinched when a hand reached for his head, but the fingers only brushed his hair before he ducked into the car.
Feeling like a fish in bowl, Mark kept his eyes forward as people pushed against his window. Jim slipped in his side and started the car, pulling away fast enough that the people had to jump back.
'Shit, Jim! You almost ran a few of them over.' Mark turned to look behind them to make sure no bodies lay in the road.
'I didn't come close, but it would serve them right, the imbeciles.' Jim looked in the rear view mirror, his brow furrowed in concern, and Mark wasn't fooled. It had been close. Damn close.
Mark settled into the seat and asked, 'Where are we going?'
Jim suddenly laughed. 'I have no idea. Away from there is all I had in mind.' He glanced at Mark. 'Where did you want to go? You're calling the shots, I'm just the chauffeur.'
'I didn't have a set destination. I was just going to go take photos.' His intention had been to take the bull by the horns and regain control of his life without worrying about the cult and Kern. An inkling of an idea took root. Instead of waiting around, he'd go to them-show them he wasn't afraid. 'I want to see the apartment.'
'The cult's apartment?'
Mark nodded, then realized Jim was driving and not looking at him, so he said, 'Yeah. I want to take some photos of it.'
The side of Jim's mouth quirked as he shrugged. 'If you say so.'
'What? You don't think I should?'
'I like the idea of taking it to Kern and the cult, but I don't think we should tip our hand. I think it would be better to draw them out.'
Drumming his fingers on the armrest, Mark tried to shake off the idea that popped into his head. No way. It was crazy. 'You said that Kern has a history of getting rid of witnesses, right?'
'Yes, that's correct.'
Jim stopped at a light and turned to Mark, but Mark ignored the other man for a moment as a crystal clear scene formed in his mind. It was so powerful, it made him shiver in response. It was almost like a future dream, only different, because he wasn't dreaming.
'Taylor? I don't think I like that look on your face. What are you thinking?'
The car jumped forward, and Mark was grateful to feel Jim's gaze leave him and turn to the road. The concept was crazy. It wouldn't work. Still…what if it did? 'What if we bait a trap for Kern?'
'I knew I wouldn't like what you were thinking.' Jim sent Mark a sidelong glance. 'What kind of trap?'
'I could hold a meeting.'
'What kind of meeting? I'm not sure I get it.'
'I was thinking some kind of religious meeting…like a revival or something.' His face burned and he knew he shouldn't have brought it up. What did he know about revivals? 'It's just that all these people are hanging around anyway. If I held some kind of ceremony, they would come, I know it. I just have a feeling that Kern and his group would come too.'
'Huh.' Jim didn't look at Mark as he turned right on to Jackson. 'He'd probably know it was a trap. Especially since you told everyone in the press conference that you wanted to be left alone.'
Mark's hopes sank. Jim was right. He couldn't just have a meeting without arousing suspicion. 'Yeah, I guess so.'
They drove in silence for several minutes, before Jim cleared his throat. 'You might not be able to pull it off without looking suspicious, but I could.'
'What could you pull off?' Mark was totally confused.
'I could hold a revival as a sort of disciple of yours.' A flush crept up Jim's neck from his collar.
Mark grinned. 'A disciple? Seriously?'
Jim shrugged, but didn't look at Mark. Instead his eyes appeared to be locked on the road ahead of them. 'Listen, we never spoke about what happened the night of your kidnapping.'
