Wendy

By W. H. Beswick

Wendy was in a government project called Insight. The goal was studied people with special powers. They discover there a people with real psychic powers. Reading minds is just one of many powers uncovered. Telepathy, telekinesis, pyrokinesis and more than real. Their research reveals that if they get the subjects at a young age. They have a chance of keeping their subject controlled. Their research shows that almost all of their have psychological issues. Paranoia being the most common. A few exhibit traits of possibly being a psychopath or sociopath.
Wendy gets her younger brother out the project. She stay because wants to not only understand how use them. Two years later, Wendy just walks out of the well-guarded facility along with their subjects. Too late they realize how powerful Wendy actually is. Soon they find out Wendy is not done with them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: W. H. Beswick
• Release date: Jun 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215108697

W. H. Beswick

Lives in Corvallis Oregon

Book preview

PROLOGUE

CALIFORNIA, 2002…

Two men in lab coats are watching a teenage girl and younger boy. Both are sitting in chairs. Todd Parke, a man in his early twenties stands over in the corner. He has a mean looking face that is reminiscent of a rat. He is one of those people you take an instant dislike to. Todd is nervously stroking his lower lip with his fingers. What do you think, Frank? He asks.

I’m not sure, the man next to him replies. The tests show the girl has some limited abilities. She is intelligent. The boy is brilliant, but is showing no sign of any abilities.

She is looking right at us, Todd says. You’re sure she can’t see us or read our minds in any way?

No, this is the upgraded booth. In other news, we are very close to getting the chips working. Those will give more control of the subjects.

You said that six months ago. Todd thinks and then suggests, Their father has abilities.

He can barely pick up images. He wastes his abilities playing poker.

Todd moves closer to the two kids. He seems to be concentrating on them. The girl looks over at him with the smallest smile.

What are you hiding? Todd asks.

The girl just smiles. Suddenly, Frank jumps back, stares at the girl, and quickly leaves. Todd joins the men in the booth, now looking a little afraid.

What the hell was that about? one of the men in the lab coat asks.

She’s playing games with us. I can get a glimpse of what is going on in her head. She is blocking me. She has no training, but she knows how to block me. She shouldn’t be able to do that. Just now an image of an old comic book character popped into my head.

Comic book character? the other man asks.

Wendy, the good little witch, except instead of wearing red, she is wearing black, Todd explains.

So, she does have some ESP. That is promising.

Are you listening to me? Todd asks. I have been here for four years. I have been trained to use my powers. Yet she is still getting into my head. I can tell you two things. She is very protective of her little brother and she seems amused by me.

Is she dangerous? one of the men in the lab coats asks.

People like us are always dangerous, Todd replies.

Let’s keep Wendy and her brother here for a while. Pay the father.

What about the mom? There is a long silence.

Todd? the man in the lab coat asks again.

Yeah, I can screw with mom’s head, but I think this is a very bad idea. You should just put her down, Todd suggests.

Both men in lab coats frown. We’re definitely not going to do that.

PROLOGUE 2

SOMEWHERE IN MONTANA, 2021…

Jacob Hodges looks out the window of his daughter’s bedroom. It is a small room with old furniture. There are crayon drawings of animals on the wall. Misty, just six years old, sits on the bed with her knees pulled up against her chest. She looks terrified. She sobs, They’re here.

Jacob snatches up the shotgun leaning against the wall then runs to his daughter. He takes her hand and leads her out her bedroom. They run down the stairs. A small figure stands between them and the front door. Father and daughter freeze. No one moves for a few long seconds. Jacob brings up his shotgun and fires. The figure is thrown against the door and crumbles to the floor. Jacob runs to the door and tries to pull it open. The door won’t budge. He looks around. Then he pulls his daughter into the front room. He aims the shotgun at a huge picture window. One blast destroys the window.

A rumbling begins under the floor. Father and daughter step back. Fire explodes through the floor like fan unbridled force of nature. It begins to race around the room like a fiery snake. The fire blocks the broken window. Jacob desperately looks around. A second later the whole room explodes in flames. Both father and daughter are engulfed, their screams filling the room.

The house sits in the middle of nowhere surrounded by flat land. There is a barn facing the house. This also explodes into flames.

Six figures stand around the two-story house watching it burn to the ground. One of the figures hurries away. The fire burns until it is white hot. Suddenly, the fire is gone. Two black spots are all that is left of the two buildings.

Five of the figures walk off. One stays behind.

Get in the van! a man yells.

The figure turns away and walks off. It is now apparent that he is just a teenager. His face is blank except for the small smile on his lips.

PART 1

THE RETURN

CHAPTER 1

CROOKED CREEK, OREGON, 2021…

We’re kidnapping five-year-olds now? one of the men in the black SUV asked. They are all dressed in dark clothes. The clothes are supposed to look casual, but still have a military feel to them. They are all wearing the same baseball hats which back this image up. These are big men with hard faces and cold eyes. They have not only seen too much of the bad in the world, but have often caused it. Two of five men hold pump shotguns.

We are following orders, a man with snow blonde hair says. His face is like the others, but much hhhharder. None of the men look at each other.

I am just saying this is a big jump from grabbing ten-year-old kids, the questioner says. How is a five-year-old a threat to national security?

You got a problem? the blonde snaps.

We have been sitting on our butts for the last year, he says. Suddenly, we get reactivated. Back to business as usual. Except, now it seems like there are no limits. Why now?

I heard rumors that something happened out in Montana, one of the men with a shotgun says.

We’re listening to gossip now? Blondie asks. Look, there was some kind of screw up. Details are above our pay grade. The important thing is we are back on the clock. Let’s show them that we are the right guys for this kind of work.

I am down with that, the first man says. It just seems like tonight we are crossing a line that we can’t go back from. From this point on there are no rules. Just pointing it out. We’ve got to make it look messy. Home invasion again?

That’s right, the blonde says. You know your jobs. You two secure the house. Then the rest of us go in, grab the girl and her mom. I get the both of them out the house and into the van. You two take care of the dad. Quick and simple. Turn the gas on the stove to high. Put the candle in the front room, then we are out. Boom. Get out of town. Stop at the farm house. Take care of mom. We are home in less than an hour.

The cleanup crew will make sure the police think the kid’s body is found in the burned-up house, one guy says. So, mom gets a bullet to the head?

That’s the plan. What, you want me to say that anyone who wants a turn at mom can have one? She is pretty good looking, and this does have to look like some freaks did this, the leader says and then looks out the window. Here we go!

The SUV and a black van pull in front of a nice house on a suburban street. The five men climb out of the SUV and charge the house. Three of the men pull out pistols fitted with odd looking suppressors. Blondie kicks the front door open, breaking the lock and door frame. The two men with shotguns stay outside. The other three go into the house. They enter a nicely furnished living room. The TV is on, but the room is empty. There is a staircase in front of the door leading up to the second floor.

Search the house! Blondie yells. They’re here! The kid is the important thing. Two men go into different parts of the house. Blondie starts up the stairs. Suddenly, his gun hand twists up in an awkward way. There is a loud crack. He screams in agony, dropping his pistol. Blondie stares at his mangled arm. His other arm flies up in the same manner with another crack. It falls back down, limp at his side. Both knee bones explode at the same time. The bones stick out of the bloody wounds. He tumbles down the stairs. He screams in agony, then manages to sob, OH GOD! MAN DOWN!"

The man with the questions runs back to the living room and stares at Blondie. He doesn’t know what to do. A brittle sound begins. He screams, grabbing his chest. Blood starts to dribble out of his mouth. He falls to his knees trying say something, but the blood is pouring out of his mouth and the words are indecipherable. He begins to sob, slumping to the floor.

The last man enters just in time to see the questioner drop to the floor. He watches both men squirm around in pain. The last man drops his pistol and grabs his groin. His scream is higher pitched than the two men on the floor. He crumbles to the floor, still holding his crotch. Blood comes out of his mouth.

The two men outside hear the screams. They look at each other.

What the hell is going on? one yells. This was supposed to be a simple in and out.

Suddenly, they are both twisted around by some unseen force to face each other. They aim their shotguns at each other. They both look terrified.

What are you doing! one screams.

I can’t stop. Oh God, no!

Both aim and fire shots into each other’s bodies. Neither man falls to the ground, despite their wounds. They keep firing until their shotguns are empty. Only then do they fall to the ground. The driver of the van looks over. He touches his earpiece. Men down! Men down! The mission has gone bad.

Explain! a man on the radio asks.

I think everyone is dead, he says, and then looks around when he hears sirens. The local cops are coming. I am out of here.

He tries to start the van, but it won’t turn over. The doors lock. He tries to open the door, but it won’t budge. He bangs on the steering wheel. The van won’t start. The doors won’t open.

The driver grabs his neck and begins to gag. He tries to pull away invisible hands from his neck. A crushing sound fills the van. Blood dribbles out of his mouth. Finally, he slumps over the steering wheel.

An older man in a suit is sitting in a dark sedan parked up the street. He pulls out his phone and taps the screen. It’s a mess down here. We got five men down, probably dead.

Take control of the situation. Use your NSA cover.

I told you it was a mess.

Just handle it.

I’ll try. This may be beyond our ability to regain control, he says and puts away his phone. The doors on his car lock. He tries to force them open. He stops and pulls out his pistol. At first it appears he is to going to use it to break the window. Then, he cocks it and puts it under his chin. His face fills with fear. NO! NO! STOP! DON’T OH JESUS!

He pulls the trigger. The interior of the car is covered with his brains, skull and blood. He falls forward on the steering wheel making the horn sound.

Red and blue lights start to fill the streets.

CHAPTER 2

Special Agent Kayla Smith is slumped in the passenger seat of a black sedan. She is an attractive woman with a slender face and figure. Her black curls are cut short. Both her eyes and skin are dark brown. Sharp cheekbones and chin give her a hard look even when she is smiling. The black jacket, pants and white blouse she is wearing look clean and pressed and there is gold band on her finger. It looks more masculine than feminine. She is staring out of the window.

Her mind is not on the job. It is back in Washington. A deep sigh makes the FBI agent focus better. She looks over at her new partner. He seems confident, but there is something about him. She can’t put her finger on it. Tired of the silence, she asks, Why are we being called into a local homicide?

Homicides, Danny Zaho says with a smile. He seems to be totally focused on his driving. He is younger than Kayla with black hair that seems too long for the FBI. He is a chubby man with a round face and lips that always seem to be curved up into a smile. Black framed glasses sit on his nose. He’s wearing a pastel blue suit with a white shirt and his too-wide tie, bearing the image of a sunset, is pulled loose. Like his partner, he is new to Oregon. He would rather be in a big city, but he understands the reason for his transfer. He screwed up in Florida. His emotions got the better of him. He needs to be more careful. He needs to stay on the job. I got the impression that they may be government spooks.

Pardon me? Kayla says, looking over at him.

Sorry, they might be government agents, he says looking at her with a smile. We are supposed to check out the scene and submit a report.

Just observe and report? Boring, Kayla says without real enthusiasm. Before this assignment she had been investigating cybercrimes, arresting creeps who were stealing peoples’ identities and money. People who had ruined lives. Now she was just doing paperwork."

We are in Oregon. Almost everything the FBI does out here is boring. But right now, I don’t mind boring, Danny says, thinking ‘out of sight, out of mind’.

Kayla leans forward and looks through the windshield. There are a lot of police cars, red firetrucks and sheriff cars. The blue and red lights illuminate the dark street. Looks like everyone with a badge is here.

Danny pulls the car over to the curb. They both climb out. A young policewoman tries to stop them. They pull out their badges and clip them onto their jacket pockets.

Maybe you guys can figure out what happened, the police officer says. You are the FBI.

Yes, we are, Kayla says, ducking under the yellow crime scene tape. How bad is it?

It is a mess. I promise you haven’t ever seen anything like this.

I have seen a lot, Kayla says.

Not like this.

The two agents walk toward the lighted area in front of the house. The front lawn is bathed in white, red and blue lights. They approach the van. There is yellow crime scene tape wrapped around it. They look in at the driver. His eyes and tongue are bulging out. The blood on his face and neck add to the horror.

What the hell? Kayla says, looking at the dead man. Someone strangled him until his eyes almost popped out.

Looks like the young cop was right, Danny says, looking a little closer.

You guys the FBI? An older man in a uniform with a sheriff’s badge walks up. His round face and red cheeks hint that he might be a drinker. "That’s