I was nervous Saturday morning. I waved goodbye to Aunt Sarah Gene, Sam, Nathan, and Ava. Ava clutched a raggedy stuffed rabbit that Aunt Sarah Gene had given her with one hand and waved at me with the other. They were going to drive separately in the Grand Marqui. Logos had decided that it would look better for me to arrive in a nicer ride, alone. The black Escalade I had booked from Lyft pulled up. The driver, a short man with a leathery tan, stepped out and opened the back door for me. I slid onto the leather seat and he closed the door.

Nathan squeezed Ava on the shoulder and gestured for me to roll down my window. I did and saw his face was twisted with something deep.

“I wanted to thank you, Cora,” he said.

“Thank me? Why I almost got you two killed. If it wasn’t for me The Palace would have never burnt down.”

“If it hadn’t been for you Ava would grow up without ever knowing what a real protest was. She might grow up and not want to live.” He inhaled and he seemed shaky. “Cora, you have given this old man a sliver of hope to cling to. Don’t ever apologize for giving out hope. Good luck today.” He patted the window frame three times with his right hand before turning around and walking back to Ava.

I shouted a thank you and rolled up the window. The drive was silent. The only noise came from the radio, playing pop music. A commercial thanking volunteers for paying the Volunteer Tax and giving their time to abortion clinics came on.

“Can you turn that off?” I leaned forward and spoke to the driver. He turned the volume knob up on his dash. “I applaud our country’s work ethic on this new policy,” boomed Persim’s voice at me from the back seat.

“I said turn it off!” I yelled at the driver.

“You heard the lady,” sounded a deep voice behind me. Sasquatch rose from the floor of the third row backseat.

Give me something to work with, Pathos’ voice screamed in my skull. I thought of the axe I created for Logos in my mind. I felt a weight grow in my lap and clutched the cold metal; I swung without taking my eyes off of Sasquatch.

The blade was going to strike him between the eyes. I could see the shock on his face. In just that instant pure terror froze his features and his skin turned waxy and pale.

How the hell did I make this? I thought, and the axe dissipated millimeters from his skull leaving my hands grasping nothing but air. The shock was replaced by fury on his face, and I felt the bug bite of a needle in my neck a second later.

The white ceiling was all I could see. I tried to move my head, and felt the strap around my forehead. My throat felt dry, and I swallowed. My tongue felt the rough, dry texture of a cloth. My mouth was parched and a nagging itch in the back of my throat sent me into a coughing fit. The muffled sound altered someone to my awakening.

“You won’t be able to counter my persuasion this time, brother. You will soon be back with me,” came Persim’s voice. The click of her heels approached, and she smiled down at me. “As soon as this host is dead. A shame that you chose such a low class vermin to reside in. Surely, there was another mind just as open to you of a bit higher caliber? When you left me, I had all the world’s famous artists and politicians brought in for questioning. I never would have expected this.” She poked me in the temple. “If it wasn’t for the protests, I never would have guessed.”

I could hear the door swing open. The sound of starchy lab pants came into the room. “Extract them immediately. Bring them to me in my office.” Click, click, click went her heels. Lock went the door.

The swish of the lab rat as he moved around the office was all I could hear. My heartbeat was all I could feel.

Help, I thought to Logos and Pathos. I felt Pathos empathy was over me, like a singing wave from my head to my toes. My heartbeat slowed.

Concentrate, Logos said. What do you need?

I need to speak! I need to persuade him to stop.

Not an option, illogical. What do you need?

I felt bile rise in my throat, and a dull panic started again. A knife. I needed a knife. Then my palm felt the coolness of metal, but my wrists were bound too tight to move. A waste. The sound of cotton on cotton received a face. The pale lab rat’s face loomed over me. He was clean shaven, with too large of a nose, and freckles that matched his burnt orange hair. An empty syringe made its way into my line of vision. Then it was gone and a sting like a wasp was in my neck, just behind my ear.

My vision began to shake. I felt my mind vibrate, and the sting in my neck turned into a drill bit. I could hear screams in the background, but they were muffled by the shaking in my skull. Then the pain was gone, I felt nothing but stillness, and the screams came to the forefront of my senses.

Pathos, my Pathos! Logos’ wail filled my heart. The cool and collected Logos was gone, replaced by fear and pain. I searched my mind for any remnants of Pathos, and found nothing. It was only the two of us now. The needle passed above my sight for a moment. It might have been my imagination, but the vial no longer appeared empty, a slightly yellow vapor filled the glass. I clenched my entire body. Pathos was no longer with me. I felt the combined loss of not only my human emotions, but the amplified feelings of whatever being Logos was. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks. Any calmness given to me by Pathos was gone now.

The table I was strapped to was shoved violently. At first I thought it was a second needle, and I braced my body for the drill bit sensation. Then the lab rat of a man was on top of me, head resting on my neck. His eyes looked up at me, I strained my eyes down to look back. A fist met his cheek and mouth and blood from his lip splattered my face. I felt the weight slide off my body. I blinked the blood from my eyes, and Sam suddenly looked down at me. I was startled, and so too was Logos because his moaning ceased, and I could hear my own thoughts again. Then a shadow loomed over Sam’s smiling face. Sasquatch.

Think, urged Logos. I glanced down, willing Sam to see and grab the knife hidden in my left hand. It worked. He reached across my body, and I felt the steel slice into my palm as he slid it out like lightning. He wielded around just as Sasquatch grabbed his shoulder and swung the knife, but it was too late, and Sasquatch was a little too Secret Service for him. He grabbed Sam’s hand and the knife was stopped inches from his throat. Sam needed help. I closed my eyes as the two hit the ground in a roll. I pictured a book, nothing special, just a dictionary hovering in the air for a moment. I knew it appeared because I heard the shatter of glass as it fell on top of the vile. The air above me shimmered yellow for a moment, and from within the vapors I saw Pathos' face smile at me. She fully materialized for a moment as she had been in Persim’s office, bent down and grabbed the knife from the floor. The blade sliced through the binds on my right wrist like paper. My right hand was free, and I felt Pathos press the handle into my hand and close my fingers around the hilt. She faded back to a wisp of yellow. I smelled lavender and honey and inhaled deeply.

Welcome back, I thought.

Hi, Honey.

I reached across and cut the knot from my left hand. I cut the rest of my bonds and spat out the cotton. Sasquatch had his back to me. He was pummeling Sam’s face.

Bring him to our side, Logos said. He sounded menacing, like logic was being illogically irate.

I kept my mouth shut. Ethos was too far ingrained in Sasquatch, Logos must have known that. Besides, this was going to feel good. I quietly placed my feet on the floor and stepped around his backside to keep out of his line of vision. Using both hands I stabbed the blade in up to the hilt in his back. Then it dissipated like the axe in the car, leaving a deep hole just to the side of his right shoulder blade. He slumped down on top of Sam who pushed him off. Sam’s face was swollen and bleeding. I helped him to his feet.

Weakly he hugged me, but I pushed him back.

“Sam, this place is crawling with Persim’s people. We have to run now.”

He nodded and turned to quietly open the door. We listened to be sure no one was there before we sprinted down the hall.

“Back entrance,” Sam panted. “Stairs.”

It was a slow process down the steps, both of us were exhausted. We finally found the first floor and Sam pointed the directions as we ran this way and that. He was past talking now. I saw a fire exit and Sam gestured with the flick of his wrist. I pushed it open and the alarm sounded. I looked into the sunlight. It was near dusk. How long had I been passed out? Aunt Sarah Gene’s car was parked on the curb across from the picket fence. It was a quick limp across the lawn. I stopped at the fence, and saw Robert roll the window down from across the street. He gave me a thumbs up, signaling that somehow he had disabled the invisible forcefield that usually buzzed around the simple fence. Nathan rushed from the driver’s side and ran to the fence. He pulled Sam across, and I followed. Robert was already switched to the driver’s side. We slid Sam across the backseat. Nathan took the passenger seat, and I sat in back with Sam’s battered head resting on my lap. Robert hit the gas and we bumped over the curb. The glass shattered on Nathan’s window. He slumped over. I turned back to Persim tower. There was one window open on the whole facade, and a shadow slipped back inside with a sniper rifle.

“Nathan!” I screamed.

“Is he dead?” Yelled Robert, still driving like a madman. I leaned forward. It was a clean shot from temple to temple. My body felt numb, and ice spread from my heart outwards.

“Just drive, Robert. Just drive.”