Anamnesis: A Novel (23 page)

“How long did you torture Kaylee for?” She
flicked open the knife. “Do you think you can last that long?”

“Livvie, please. You’re being ridiculous.
We can move on from this. You can’t
torture
me.”

Her voice was flat. “Ethan, find a gag.
I’m sure there’s one somewhere in here.”

I was outside of my body as I searched for
one in the black tubs. I found a black leather gag. It had bite marks on it and
a smudge of blood. I went to her father. Olivia raised her hand to stop me.

“I will carve every word you called Laurel
into your body, like you did to Kaylee, and when I’m done, you will tell me the
names of everyone involved in this.” She pressed the tip of the knife into the
flesh of her father’s chest. “Do you understand?”

“You wouldn’t. You don’t have it in you.”

She lowered her hand. I forced the ball
gag into his mouth and laced it tightly around his head. The image of Kaylee
was so strong in my mind that bile threatened to come up. I stepped back.

Olivia pushed the knife hard enough to draw
blood. “You’re in for a surprise.”

In the end,
Holloway didn’t give us anymore names. Olivia had some kind of monster inside
her, not as corrupt as her father’s, but dark nonetheless. It allowed her to
slice words into his flesh without shedding a single tear, getting sick, or
stopping. She’d taken the gag off after the first few minutes, realizing he
couldn’t tell her what she wanted to know. That forced us all to listen to his
screaming. I was the one who stopped her after her father had fallen unconscious.

When I set my hand on her shoulder, I
broke her out of a daze. She looked at me like she didn’t recognize me. There
were flecks of blood on her face. Her hands were drenched in his blood. It
struck me that I didn’t know Olivia as well as I thought. Each time I thought I
had her pegged, I was proved wrong. She was dangerous. She was a force to be
reckoned with.

Even though she messaged Hugh saying not
to come back, we couldn’t stay down there forever. Someone could come down at
any minute. It was too risky, and since Holloway was out we weren’t getting
anything out of him.

“We need to leave. What are we doing with
them?” I gestured to the girl and the father.

Olivia grabbed her dad’s jacket and wiped
her hands on it. “I know where she lives. We’ll take her to her apartment and
wash her up, put her in bed. She won’t have to remember any of this.”

Good thing her not remembering was in our
favor, too. “And your dad?”

“Do you have anywhere we can hide him?”

“No. Donovan’s family is after me. None of
the places I’d go to are safe for me anymore.” I took a deep breath. “Olivia,
do you want him to live or die? Knowing that would help us figure out what to
do.”

Instead of answering me, she went to Julie
and helped her up. The girl leaned against Olivia and blinked slowly. “Where am
I?”

“This is a bad dream, Julie. You’ll wake
up soon, okay?” She stroked her hair.

“Does that mean Kaylee’s not really dead?”

“Yes, sweetie. She’s just fine.” Olivia
guided her out of the room.

She wanted time to decide, but we didn’t
have that, not when we had a hostage. I popped the memory card out of the
camcorder and slipped it in my pocket. We’d left the thing on the whole time
accidentally. There was something morbidly ironic about there being video of
Olivia torturing her father, just like I imagined Hugh had a video of her dad
torturing Kaylee.

I closed the doors to the lockers and
surveyed the room. Save for Holloway on the chair, there was no obvious evidence
of our presence. I picked up the gag from the floor and put it back on him,
then dragged him out of the room while still on the chair. The fucker was
heavy. Olivia stood with Julie in the other part of the basement.

“I’m going to get my car. We’ll put him in
the trunk and take him to D.P. I don’t want to kill him.” Olivia offered no
explanation for why she didn’t, but I had a feeling that pressing the matter
wouldn’t get me far. “Stay here with Julie. I can’t have her walking around
like this. I’ll pull around back.”

“Fine,” I said and came to take Julie, who
stumbled as she switched from Olivia to me. I waited until Olivia was gone to
help Julie sit on the floor, then pulled out a cigarette. “Do you mind?”

Julie blinked hard and frowned. “Smoking
is so bad for you. It’s the twenty-first century, buddy.”

“I know,” I said, cigarette between my
lips. I lit it and inhaled. The first smoke after being deprived felt the best.
It was never enough. I sucked the thing down and lit another.

“I never liked Mr. Holloway,” Julie said.
She watched him from the corner of her eye. “He’s creepy. I kind of—I’m not
surprised I’d have this nightmare. If I’m dreaming can’t I control what’s
happening? Can I fly right now?”

“Dreams don’t always work like that,” I
offered.

The answer satisfied her. She brought her
knees to her chest and rocked back and forth. I felt like a monster. It was
unfair to lie to her, but everything that just happened to her was unfair. Her
situation was too familiar. Did I want to know the gritty details of my ‘off
the record’ Whiteout trials? Probably not. Maybe. The experience didn’t define
me, so technically I didn’t need to remember it.

Experience didn’t define me? Fucking
self-help books. I made a mental note to lay off them.

While he was still unconscious, I got
Holloway out of the chair and dressed him. Dressing him was even harder than
putting him in the chair, but dragging him around naked sounded even worse. He
groaned and flinched as the material ran over the cuts in his skin. There was a
thin layer of blood across his whole body that obscured most of the words. When
I finished dressing him, I bound his wrists behind him with the cordage from
the chair, then returned the chair exactly where I found it. I’d get his ankles
once we were at our final destination.

By the time I was finished Olivia was back
and Holloway was awake. He didn’t struggle, but watched us like a hawk as we
helped Julie up. Olivia led her upstairs, leaving me alone with him.

“It’s time to go. I’m going to get you to
your feet, then you’re going to help me get you into the car. If you don’t, you’re
dead. Nod if you understand.”

Holloway nodded. His forehead scraped
against the concrete, leaving a sweat and blood stain behind.

I slid my hands under his armpits and
helped him to his feet. He was dangerous, and I was ready to do what I had to
if he tried anything stupid. I kept my gun pressed into his back and made him
take the lead out of the basement and into his office where the exit door hung
open. The Immaculate Car waited for us, barely humming, with the trunk open.

Julie was in the backseat. Olivia stood by
the trunk.

“Get in.”

He made a guttural, pathetic noise.
Holloway looked at me then to Olivia, then the trunk.

The alley was empty. Cars and the
occasional pedestrian crossed either end, but none paid any attention to what
was inside. Eventually someone would, so I gave Holloway a shove towards the
trunk. He gave in and sat on the edge of the trunk, then brought his knees up
and rolled back. It was a tight, uncomfortable fit. Good.

Olivia slammed the trunk closed. “I can’t
believe any of this. I can’t believe what I just did or what I just saw.”

“Don’t think about it too much. We have to
think about what we’re going to do.” To emphasize my point I went to the
passenger door and opened it. “Let’s get Julie home, okay?”

She nodded and rolled her shoulders back.
“You’re right. Let’s go.”

Inside the car the three of us were
silent. I watched Julie in the side mirror as she looked out on the street.
There were bruises starting to form on her cheek and temple where Holloway held
her down. I knew they were fingertip shaped, but would anyone else guess that
just by looking at them? Maybe they’d fade by the time she woke up. Then she
wouldn’t have to struggle against what she was seeing versus what she
remembered.

“Where does she live?” I asked, suddenly
in need of filling the quiet.

“Near the convention center. I’ll take her
up while you wait in the car. Then we’re taking him to D.P.”

I tapped my fingers against the arm rest.
I wanted to ask what we were doing with her dad, but figured her time alone taking
care of Julie would give her a minute to breathe. No matter the decision,
keeping him in D.P. wasn’t as easy as she thought.

“Oh, I’m home,” Julie’s lofty voice
stated.

“We’re here.” Olivia parked the car in a
loading zone. “Drive around or find somewhere more discreet. I don’t want
anyone hearing him if he starts kicking around. Come back in a half hour.”

I did as I was told and switched to the
driver’s seat. The Immaculate Car practically drove itself. With Olivia and
Julie gone, I felt self-conscious in it. Certainly a cop would question why a
guy like me was driving a car like this. There was a difference between the
fashionable homeless look many Seattleites sported, and the
actual
homeless.
I fell closer to the latter.

I put it into drive and reentered traffic.
I didn’t drive much in general and found myself nervous as cars wove in and out
of lanes and pedestrians darted into the street or bikes rode too close.

The half hour went by slowly. Afternoon
traffic was picking up. It was strange to see all the potential customers
meandering on the streets from this new perspective. I spotted dealers right
away in their little congregation underneath awnings and in alcoves. The fog of
weed was strong in Westlake as everyone took advantage of the state marijuana
laws. I watched the demographic shift as I went up streets. College kids and
business workers mingled with street trash. People from every walk of life in
massive groups waiting at bus stops, all of them going about their daily lives.

It was a different world out there. Not
long ago I was in the daily grind, moving through my life like it was a dream.
I’d never be able to go back to that exact place, but I had no doubt wherever I
drifted to next would be much the same. Suppliers needing dealers, customers
needing a fix. The people changed but the game was the same.

By the time my half hour was up, I’d
relaxed into the car. Beside a few thumps, Holloway hadn’t made a peep. I made
my way back to Julie’s and found Olivia waiting at the loading zone with her
arms folded tightly across her chest. She’d unpinned the lace over her eyes and
her hair was loose. As soon as the car stopped she was in.

“You look like hell,” I said.

“Thanks a lot. That’s exactly what I
needed to hear right now.” She buckled up. “Go to D.P. I just want to drop him
off and get home.”

So the plan hadn’t changed. I flicked the
blinker on and waited for a mint green Prius to pass. “Someone needs to stay
with him.”

Olivia snorted. “Oh yeah? Why is that?”

“If anyone sees us drop him off, they’ll
see it as information. You can get money or drugs off information. Favors. They
might come to us first and we’ll need to buy their silence.” I tried to keep my
tone level. Olivia’s mood had shifted from angry, to murderous, to dazed, to
belligerent all in the space of a few hours. I had to be careful. “We don’t
want any witnesses. Also we can’t leave him alone. Someone will have to watch
him.”

I got on the road and drove six blocks
before she spoke.

“I have a couple hundred in cash, is that
good enough?”

“Should be fine.”

“And as for someone staying with him, can
you?”

Just as I was going to say no, a little
voice in my head reminded me I had nothing else to do. I literally had nothing
else to do. I glanced at Olivia then back to the road. “Sure.”

She sighed in relief. “Thank you. That’s
one less thing I have to worry about.”

“Glad I could help.” The words felt like
cotton in my mouth and it took a lot to get them out.

“Did Julie settle in all right?”

“I guess. I helped her take a shower then
put her into bed. Took the patch off her. I don’t think I can look at her the
same way after this. Fortunately I don’t see her too much, but still.”

Olivia punched in the address to D.P. on
the screen in her console and for the rest of the trip we listened to a soothing
robot woman direct us.

We arrived at D.P., still as decrepit as
it was when we left it, and parked close to the front doors. I scanned the area
for anyone I recognized. There were a few homeless in blankets and layers
sleeping near the building across the street, but otherwise the coast was
clear.

Olivia and I got out of the car and met at
the trunk. I started to wonder how we were going to get him through the narrow
hole into D.P. and if his wounds were going to get infected and stink. When
Olivia opened the trunk, those questions didn’t matter anymore.

Holloway was dead. His vacant eyes bulged
out of their sockets, bloodshot. His white dress shirt was almost completely
red, his wounds having soaked through. The cuts Olivia dealt were superficial
as far as I was concerned. I didn’t think he died from them.

The gag sealed his mouth completely and
there was snot and blood running from his nose. I figured he’d suffocated. Then
again, it didn’t matter how it happened. He was gone.

Olivia stared at the body. Her face was
slack. She reached out and pressed her fingers to his throat, but her hand fell
away quickly.

“He’s dead.” She sucked in a short gasp of
air. “I killed him.”

“You didn’t.” If you wanted to argue
semantics, she did. “He suffocated. It was an accident.”

“What are we going to do?”

My brain went into overdrive thinking of
possibilities. I was elated he was dead, though I didn’t show it. One down,
five to go. We could use the death to scare the others, but it had the
potential to work against us. We needed more bargaining chips against them.

“This is it, Olivia. We have to end all of
this now. You need to decide where you stand.”