Inside the vehicle, more people lingered.Many had slices of pizza in their hands, and Matt was encouraged tosee quite a few cups, as well. The first person they passed withboth hands full was a young, harried-looking woman. Matt smiled ather. “Coffee?”
Without even glancing at him, she pointedpast her into another room.
Vic led Matt through the crowd until theycame to a long table covered with food. Plates and napkins andplasticwear were stacked at one end. The pizza boxes were scatteredabout, almost all of them open. There was also a couplefamily-sized buckets of fried chicken, some Chinese take-outcontainers overflowing with rice and noodles, and, at the oppositeend of the table, cans of soda and bottles of water surrounded ahuge coffee pot.
“Thank God,” Matt sighed.
He’d read an article once that claimed blackcoffee didn’t counter the effects of alcohol, but he chose not tobelieve it. The buzz he’d gotten from the wine was alreadybeginning to fade, but any help he could get would be great.
Vic stood with his hands in the pockets ofhis coat as Matt downed the first cup. The coffee was lukewarm anda little bitter; Starbucks it wasn’t. But he poured a refill andnursed it as he leaned back against Vic. In a low voice, he asked,“Do you really think you can find this kid?”
Vic shrugged, which settled Matt closer tohim. “We don’t even know if he’s still alive. Or if he’s even outthere—what if someone picked him up already? A lot of weirdoes outthere would snatch up a lost little boy in a heartbeat.”
“Vic!”
Matt turned at the sound of Kendra’s voice.She hurried over to them, an older man on her heels. Just lookingat him made Matt think pilot. He had a grizzled beard andwind chapped skin, and steely eyes that squinted out from aweathered face. His head was covered with a knit cap, but tufts ofdirty blond hair curled from under it to frame his face and ears.He looked like he should’ve been flying bush planes in Alaska orrunning drugs to Mexico, not hanging around a police command centerin Nowhere, Virginia.
As he eyed Matt, one corner of his mouthturned up in a sneer. But when he turned towards Vic, he took astep back. “These your guys?” he asked Kendra.
“Cayce, this is Vic and Matt.” Kendra noddedas she made the introductions, then told Vic, “There’s no hard andfast rule against not flying at night; it’s just that mostof the other pilots don’t want to go out after dark—”
“Most of the other pilots are wusses,” Caycegroused.
Matt nudged Vic with an elbow and silentlytold his lover, ::You two should get along great. He soundsabout as people-friendly as you do.::
As if she could hear that thought, Kendraglanced at Matt. “Cayce will take us up.”
Cayce shrugged. “Why not? Though I don’t knowhow either of youse guys are going to see anything out there. ‘Lessyou got some sort of freaky superpower I don’t know about.”
::What if I do?:: Vic counteredtelepathically.
The thought passed from Vic to everyone inthe room—Matt heard it, as did Kendra, and the volunteers nearbyturned to look. Cayce narrowed his eyes and stared hard at Vic’sface, as if sure he’d heard something spoken aloud, even if hehadn’t seen Vic’s lips move. “Did you say something?” he asked,suspicious.
Vic shrugged, and Matt exchanged a look withKendra, who was trying hard not to smirk. “All right, guys? Can weget moving?” she asked, trying to diffuse the situation. “LittleNoah’s out there waiting to be found.”
Cayce kept a wary eye on Vic. “Yeah, right.Let’s get this over with already.”
Again Vic didn’t answer out loud. ::Fineby me. Matty?::
“I’m game,” Matt said with a nod.
Cayce looked from him to Vic and back again,more unsettled than ever. It took all the strength Matt had not tolaugh out loud at the consternation written plainly across thepilot’s rugged features.
* * * *
In the cockpit of the helicopter, Vic felt asif he were perched on a ledge looking out over the darkened land. Astorm was coming in, and trees swam out of wisps of fog as thechopper’s spotlight swept over the forest. The heavy headsetblocked most of the noise from the blades, but Vic had also cut offthe mike so he could concentrate. He was listening, but not to thepilot beside him, or Matty or Kendra in the back. He wasn’t usinghis ears at all.
No, he was listening with his mind. Hefelt it stretched out like a net before him, draped over the sideof the chopper, scraping over the treetops and dipping down tobrush the ground below. For the most part, he was catching a lot ofrandom images and emotions, nothing verbal, nothing in words. He’dalmost dismissed it as woodland static, random snippets from theminds of unseen animals hidden among the trees. Then he rememberedwhat Kendra had said about the boy being autistic. He had to admithe wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but he knew it had to dowith how someone viewed the world around them. And Noah was onlysix. Maybe he didn’t think in words yet. Maybe pictures andfeelings were all he knew.
So Vic concentrated on the images, trying tofigure out if they came from an animal or a human. Once he focusedon them, he began to recognize familiar themes he’d seen in Sadie’shead the few times he’d tried reading the dog’s mind. Most of thesethoughts were centered on food or shelter; some higher in the treeswere fearful of the helicopter’s noise and lights. Also, they werestill really close to the command center. If the kid was out there,someone would’ve found him by now.
Matt’s thoughts eased into Vic’s mind.::Anything?::
Vic didn’t break his focus to respond, but heshook his head. It’d been days since the boy disappeared. He couldbe anywhere.
Literally, anywhere.
Whenever Vic caught a thought that
