Inside My Head (Silent Moment Series: Book 6)

Chapter 27

As I navigated the labyrinthine corridors of my mind, Joseph's voice echoed from a distance, taunting me. "Hey Kegan!" he called out. "I might not be able to create anything in your mindspace, but I can sure bring something in."

His words were puzzling, but I didn't have much time to ponder their meaning. Suddenly, a familiar voice stopped me in my tracks. It was Russell's voice, but how? Was it really him or another trick of Joseph's? "Ever take zoology 101, Kegan—" the voice began, referencing hunting tactics of predator species.

My heart pounded as I sprinted through a pair of doors leading to another hallway. Russell's voice continued, "No? How about a quick lesson, then? The most common..."

But then, the voice seamlessly morphed into Joseph's. "...pursuit predators expend energy running down slower prey, or they pace themselves and let their prey tire out. I'm proposing a third option—just show me where you hid it so we can both kick back and relax. All this running is plain undignified!"

Joseph's words were a blend of mockery and persuasion, a mind game meant to wear me down. The switch from Russell's voice to his was disconcerting, a reminder of Joseph's manipulative prowess in this mental arena. I pushed on, refusing to give in to his mind games. The mention of predator tactics was a clear indication of Joseph's strategy – he was trying to outpace me, to tire me out until I had no choice but to capitulate. But I wasn't going to make it easy for him. I had to be smart, to use the ever-changing landscape of my mind to my advantage. The doors and hallways seemed endless, each turn a new challenge, each step a defiance of Joseph's pursuit. I was determined not to give up, not to reveal the location of the chip I had hidden. This was a battle of endurance and will, and I was prepared to see it through to the end, no matter how undignified the chase might seem.

As I continued my frantic escape through the corridors of my mind, a door to my right caught my attention. But the recognition that came with it was like a punch to the gut. It was the airlock chamber, a scene etched into my memory with painful clarity. There stood my mother and father, moments before their tragic and unjust end. The memory of Commander Jaha allowing me a final goodbye before they were mercilessly ejected into the cold vacuum of space was overwhelming. That memory was a dark chapter in my life, one that was filled with grief, guilt, and a profound sense of helplessness. The sight of that door, the mere thought of revisiting that moment, sent a wave of anguish through me. But this was not the time to succumb to those emotions. "I'm not dealing with that right now. Absolutely not," I resolved internally.

With every ounce of strength I could muster, I forced myself to look away from that door, to push those haunting memories back into the recesses of my mind. I picked up my pace, running faster, channeling my pain and fear into the urgency of my flight. Joseph's pursuit was relentless, but I was determined not to let him corner me, not to let him use my deepest traumas against me. The path ahead was uncertain, the memories that lined these corridors were a minefield of emotional triggers. Yet, I pressed on, driven by the need to survive, to outwit Joseph, and to reclaim control over my own mind and body. This was more than a physical chase; it was a battle against my past, against the pain and the regrets that had shaped me. As I ran, my breathing became more labored, my steps more urgent. The echoes of my footsteps mingled with the ghosts of my past, a haunting symphony that underscored the gravity of my situation. But despite the weight of my history, I was resolute. I could not, would not, let Joseph win.

Joseph's voice echoed through the corridors, a mix of realization and admiration tinged with his ever-present arrogance. "Now why did he avoid this?" he mused aloud, his tone contemplative. Then, as understanding dawned on him, his voice grew louder, filled with a mocking recognition. "Go float yourself. A+ in zoology, Kegan. That was a very effective distraction display, but I know better."