Free Inescapable (The Premonition Series) by Amy A Bartol Page A

stop…got on the bus…runnin’ have to get back… Evie!” he says, looking up at me with a startled expression. He’s reliving it somewhat.
    “I’m okay, Russell, I’m fine…it’s okay. And you didn’t just walk away,” I say, getting up from my chair and moving to the one next to his. Holding his hand, I squeeze it. “How do you feel?” I ask him with concern.
    “I feel like I’ve been playin’ football without my freakin’ helmet,” he answers angrily, “and the offensive line can’t block anyone.”
    “Oh, so you’re familiar with the style of play executed by my former high school team. That’s unfortunate,” I tease him. I study him awhile as he continues to cradle his head in his hands, then I say in a thoughtful tone, “You wouldn’t promise me. That’s it, isn’t it…when did you go and talk to Reed? Was it right after you left me last night, or did you see him this morning?”
    “Uhh, I don’t know whatyer talkin’ ‘bout, Red, but I could use some aspirin,” he says evasively.
    “Ahh, Russell,” I say angrily, dropping his hand. Springing out of my chair, I go back to the one across from his, sitting back in it in a huff. My eyes narrow. “I asked you not to go near him. You know, I saw him this morning, and I noticed that he had both his arms still attached, so I assumed you took the high road. What were you thinking? Reed is really dangerous,” I ask. Rifling through my bag, I find a small bottle of aspirin, which I set in front of Russell. Then I push my bottled water at him.
    “Ahh, hell, Evie!” Russell says after he takes an aspirin. “So yer sayin’ it’s okay for y’all to talk to that…that…thing, but I’m not allowed to, is that it?” Russell inquires angrily.
    “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I told you, his voice doesn’t work on me. I can have a conversation with him without getting mind controlled,” I say defensively. “When did you talk to him? Can you recall any of your conversation?”
    Russell bends over again, cradling his face in his hands like his head weighs a ton. With his arm bent, his bicep bulges out of his t-shirt prominently, distracting me from my train of thought. His voice comes out muffled when he says, “I saw him this mornin’, when I was comin’ across campus, after my mornin’ workout.”
    “And, what did you say?” I prompt after a brief pause.
    “Well, that’s between us men, now isn’t it, Red?” he asks. “Well, between a man and whatever the hell he is…”
    And there it is. Russell has figured out something that I had not wanted to admit, even to myself. If Reed is not a man…then what, indeed, is he? And what am I?
    “So Reed told you to forget about what happened last night, is that it?” I ask, trying to put the puzzle together.
    “No, if he’d done that, I probably wouldn’t be this pissed off now. No, what he said was, ‘Forget about Genevieve; she’s not for you this time.’”
    I would laugh because Russell’s attempt to imitate Reed came out very nasal and nothing like the voice in question. But I’m not laughing because the meaning behind what he said is sending chills through me.
    “Oh,” I say thoughtfully. “But you remembered me anyway. Not at first, of course, but you beat it…but not without consequences,” I say, acknowledging his aching head. “That is significant…you must be very stubborn,” I say lamely.
    “I am, when I want somethin’,” he replies and manages a ghost of a smile.
    “Well, it looks like being my friend might turn out to be hazardous to your health, Russell,” I say sadly.
    “Whaddaya mean?” Russell asks, tensing up.
    “What do you mean?” I counter. “Having your mind erased wasn’t enough for you? This isn’t your problem. Thanks for all your help, but this is outta hand. I’m not going to make you a target.”
    “A target for what, Evie? You know more than yer sayin’, don’t ya?” Russell’s eyes narrow accusingly.
    “It’s