• PAGES: 300 (trade paper)
  • RRP: £2.99/$3.99 (ebook) (papeback tbc)
  • PUBLICATION: March 2016 (paperback April 2016)
  • ISBN: 978-1-908340238 (paperback)
  • ASIN: B01CZR4P9M
  • PAPERBACK: Available April 2016
  • EBOOK: Amazon US | Amazon UK | Other Counties

Mind Evolution: Perceivers #3

by

Jane Killick

The power to move objects with their minds lies dormant inside all perceivers, but they must face death to unlock it, in Mind Evolution, the thrilling novel about young people with special powers.

Michael, working with the police in London, looks into the minds of businessmen driven crazy to the point of suicide. Drugs found in their belongings suggest an addiction raging out of control, but Michael discovers the people supplying them want more than drugs money: they want information.

Using their ability to read minds and sense emotions, Michael and his perceiver friends get drawn deeper into a conspiracy that goes beyond the criminal world. To find the truth, they must track down the mastermind who wants to manipulate perceiver powers for his own ends. But even their new power of telekinesis may not be enough to defeat him.

Ebook

Paperback

Out April 2016

Excerpt from Mind Evolution

Alex turned to look just as the train emerged from the trees, its black face staring them down as it chugged towards the bridge. He went to run, but his foot hit an invisible barrier and he fell forward. He reached out his hands to save himself and went crashing to the ground.

“Alex!” shouted Michael.

Alex struggled to get up, but his feet scratched uselessly at the ground like tiny little rat claws.

Sarah reached Michael and Pauline. “I tied his shoelaces together,” she said, quietly and coldly.

“What?!” He faced her, not quite believing what she was saying, at the same time perceiving it was true.

“You want him to think he’s going to die, don’t you?” said Sarah.

“Not if it’s actually going to get him killed, you crazy bitch!”

Back on the bridge, Alex had realised what had happened and he was crouched on the ground, frantically picking at the laces on his boots.

“Alex!” cried Michael as the train entered the other side of the bridge, speeding towards them with all the energy of a Victorian steam engine.

Michael surged forward, ready to run and rescue his friend, but Pauline grabbed his arm and pulled him back hard. “You’ll never make it there in time,” she said.

Standing helplessly on the dried earth, he watched Alex getting more panicky as the train’s impersonal face got closer, fired by angry steam blowing out of its head. “Forget the laces, kick them off, kick them off!”

He didn’t know if Alex had heard him or if he had figured it out for himself, but suddenly his boots were off his feet and he was running down the track, his socks desperately kicking up a scattering of stones. Still the train closed in on him.

Alex glanced back, the train almost at his heels. Michael saw the terror on his face for just a moment before he launched himself at the railings. Even with his body pressed against the steel, he was still in the train’s path. He climbed over them, like he had done in preparation for the bungee jump, clutching onto the top rail as his legs dangled high above the river.

The train steamed past, blasting air into Alex’s face, blowing out his hair and the loose material of his jacket. Still he clung on, the weakening strength of his hands the only thing that stopped him plummeting into the water below, this time with no harness or bungee cord to save him.

Michael stood helpless beside the bridge as the train continued to puff across the last thirty metres, the engine pulling carriage after carriage and preventing him from running onto the tracks to help his friend.

“He can’t hang on much longer,” said Pauline.

Michael saw that she was right, but hearing it out loud didn’t help them find a solution.

“The safety line is still attached to the bridge,” said Sarah.

Alex’s annoying girlfriend was right. Clipped to the top railing, about a metre from where Alex was hanging, was the metal safety clasp of a rope.

“I missed it when I was clearing up,” said Sarah.

Michael didn’t know if he believed she forgot it or if she left it there on purpose, but he had no time to care. “Alex, can you reach the safety line?!” Michael shouted, his words lost in the fiery roar of the steam engine.

“Send him our thoughts,” said Pauline, clasping his hand. He felt the comforting warmth of her fingers around his. “And hope to hell he’s got his perception wide open.”

Together they thought: Safety line to your right. Can you reach it?

Maybe Alex heard them in his head, maybe he just saw the rope on his own as he looked around in desperation. Either way, he reached out a hand. But as soon as he let go of the railing with his right hand, his left hand began to slip. He grabbed the railing again with both hands and held on tight as his legs swung underneath him.

“He can always drop into the river,” said Sarah. “Like jumping off a diving board into a swimming pool.”

“The water’s not deep enough,” said Michael. “He’ll kill himself.”

The last carriage thundered past them and the train blew a triumphant whistle as it continued on its journey, oblivious to the horror it had narrowly avoided.

Michael jumped onto the tracks – followed by the two girls – and ran. But he was still thirty metres away from Alex. “Hold on!” he cried.

Alex was barely holding on.

Michael saw his terrified look as he realised he wasn’t going to make it. He turned from his friend back to the rope which hung tantalisingly close and yet frustratingly far from his grasp. He made one last stretch for it, reaching with all his strength, sacrificing even the muscles in his left hand. As Alex’s fingers slipped from the rail, Michael heard Pauline scream.

He stopped running and watched Alex fall.

The rope, barely swaying in the breeze under the bridge, suddenly swung an impossible arc towards Alex. Alex caught it and clutched it tight to his chest. The rope pulled taut and his body jolted to a halt, putting a sudden end to his deathly plunge.

“Michael!” he screamed, as he dangled above the river. “I did it!”

Michael, Pauline and Sarah made it to the centre of the bridge where the rope was fixed securely to the rail. Michael looked down at his friend, swinging in the open air. “Bring me up, please,” was all his exhausted voice could say.

For the second time that morning, they hauled him to safety. He was still shaking from the experience and they had to help him over the rails.

To Michael’s dismay, Alex fell into Sarah’s arms. He squeezed her thin body so tight that she could barely breathe under the weight of his gratitude at still being alive.

“Did you see what I did, Michael?” said Alex as he emerged from the embrace. “I made the rope move towards me.”

“You reached for it,” said Michael.

“No,” said Alex. “I couldn’t reach it. I tried, but it was too far. As I felt myself falling, I willed it to come closer to me – and it did! The power that you were trying to teach me with the Coke can saved my life.”

Silence fell across the bridge. Only the sound of the water flowing beneath made any comment.

So, Michael thought, you didn’t have to be brain damaged to make telekinesis work. You just had to be desperate.

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Copyright, Jane Killick 2016

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