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Jack ignored the pressure in his head alerting him to her arrival. She stayed quiet, and he happily did likewise, focussing on the road.

Her presence had just begun to irritate as the dashboard's com unit beeped. He flicked the monitor on, and Captain Lee appeared.

Rubbing his hand over his head, towards his receded blonde hairline, Lee stared hard over the thin rims of his glasses. "Crawford," Lee wasted little time with greetings, his tone stressed. "We've got a spike on Rosemont Drive, in the mall. Get over there."

"Yes, sir." He steered the car to the next right, siren whining as he sped up. His current assignment, investigating rumours of rogue psychics, would likely prove unproductive, anyway. Still, it'd be preferable to dealing with a telepathic talent emerging in a crowded mall. Spiking was painful enough for isolated victims. In a crowd, the sudden influx of thoughts resulted in lashing out with bursts of psychic pain, increasing the crowd's agitation, which in turn increased the psychic's distress, a cycle which could result in fatalities.

"Taylor's en route," said Lee. "But you're closer. The information's been routed to Ms. Cartwright. Call if you need anything." The screen clicked off.

What've we got? Jack thought at her.

It's a boy, maybe seventeen, Lydia thought back, her tone one of professional detachment. There're at least a couple of dozen civilians who didn't escape the cascade. It looks like he's currently in a lull, but they're in no state to take advantage of it. Regulars are holding a strict perimeter. The first responding officer got caught, and had to be dragged out.

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