Mystics #1: The Seventh Sense by Kim Richardson Read Free Book Online Page A

with us, not with the Mutes.”
    Zoey screwed up her face. “I’m lost—what are Mutes ?”
    “Mutes are persons that are deaf and blind to the supernatural
around them. Their seventh sense has been turned off, muted, so to speak. Like
us, some are born with the gift, and some are not. Sometimes kids will have the
seventh sense, and then it will go away as they age. Then they become Mutes
like the majority of the human population.”
    “So how many of us are there in the world?” asked Zoey.
    “About 0.5 percent of the human population,” said Agent Barnes.
    “Mutes and Sevenths don’t mix very well. In fact, most of them would
probably have us all locked up. Since they can’t see what we see, they think we’re crazy. It’s better that we keep
to ourselves and go about our business. Mind you, some Mutes have married
Sevenths, but that’s really rare. It’s not encouraged to lie to your spouse
about your job, or who you are. We just stick to the program.”
    “So do all the people like us live here at the hive?”
    “No, some of us work here,” said Agent Barnes. “Out-of-towners
sometimes stay here, too. But you see, Zoey, there are also small communities
all over the world with only Sevenths in them. Humankind has enough to worry
about without having to deal with a subculture that could be seen to threaten
their very validity. It is our job to protect the outside world from truths
that they are not yet ready to know.”
    “Right,” said Zoey.
    He gave Zoey a questioning look. “Any more questions before we go
in?”
    Of course she had more questions, but they would have to wait. She
just shook her head and kept her mouth shut for the time being.
    Agent Barnes gave a nod and turned towards the door. He knocked
twice, and they went inside.
    The room was large and square with rows of windows at the opposite side.
Twenty chairs framed a great oak table in the middle of the room. Four
important-looking people sat on the opposite side of the table, three men and a
woman.
    “Ah, at last, Agent Barnes,” said one of the men as he waved them in.
“Please come in and introduce us to our newest guest.”
    He had a round, cheerful face, a neatly trimmed white beard, and
smiling eyes under a mass of thinning white hair. He looked like a retired
professor whose large girth was exposed because his plaid suit was two sizes
too small. His small red bowtie finished his look.
    Agent Barnes walked up to the desk. Clasping his hands behind him,
he stood tall and proud. “Thank you, director Hicks.”
    He nodded to the others, “director Johnson, director Martin, and
director Campbell. I’d like you to meet Zoey St. John.” He turned and motioned
for Zoey to move forward.
    Obediently, she stepped in beside him. In the moment of silence, she
was afraid they would hear the loud thumping of her heart. She tried to breathe
normally, not sure what to do or say. Everyone was staring at her like she had
just landed from Mars.
    One of the men had dark skin and a face that showed no emotion,
almost as if he were a wax figure, maybe he was a wax figure. The other man was younger with a pale face and dark eyes that
never blinked—he reminded Zoey of an android. The only other person who showed
an ounce of emotion was the woman. She looked bored. Her blond hair was cut square
across her pointy chin, and she was dressed in a bold, patterned jacket that
looked as if it had been made from old curtains.
    Zoey’s nerves danced. She smiled at each director as she was
introduced, but only director Hicks returned her smile. She felt like she was
standing in front of a prison parole board—and they weren’t keen on letting her
out.
    “Pleased to meet you, Zoey,” said director Hicks, still smiling.
“Welcome to the agency. Please sit down.”
    Zoey blushed. “Thank you,” she managed to say.
    She pulled out a chair and sat next to Agent Barnes.
    “So this is the Drifter ?”
said the youngest director. His raspy voice sounded as