Curse (Blur Trilogy Book 3) (26 page)

Dr. Adrian Waxford stood beside the general as she perused the videos of the experiments he’d done.

She finished with the fusion frequency tests and came to footage of one of the subjects in the room with the
Tabanidae.

The man was strapped to a gurney, and he lurched and jerked, vainly trying to get free as the thousands of horse flies swarmed around him. Descended on him. Razored their mouthparts into his skin and lapped up his blood. Tried to crawl into his mouth and nose.

“Tell me, Adrian. How do you choose your subjects?”

“It isn’t always easy. We want people who are in need of the kind of care I’m able to provide, but not so high-profile that their transfer from a traditional detention facility would attract media attention.”

“On the phone earlier, you said you have a recent arrival.”

“Yes. Just yesterday.”

“Ty Bell.”

“That’s what he used to be known as. Yes.”

“And he’s from Wisconsin as well?”

“As well?”

“As well as your most infamous subject.”

Adrian was quiet. He wasn’t sure he liked the way she’d phrased that.

He waited for her to go on.

“I’m referring to the one who was never charged.”

“He killed eight people.”

“He was
suspected
of killing eight people. That was never proven.”

“The evidence was overwhelming, General.”

“The man was never brought to trial. He just vanished from that hospital in December.”

“We thought it prudent to move things forward.”

She produced a USB thumb drive from her pocket. “I’d like a copy of these videos. Then you can take me to him. I’m curious to see how he’s been progressing. Under your care.”

“You mentioned earlier that you might want to get to your hotel before the storm hits?”

“I’ll make do.” She handed him the drive. “Now, the files?”

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

We follow the trail toward Little Bear Creek.

It’s well maintained and, with the switchbacks, not terribly steep, so the hike is going a lot faster than I thought it would.

Tane has taken the lead, leaving me to guide Alysha.

The path isn’t wide enough for us to walk side-by-side, but as we proceed, she’s right behind me.

After our face-touching encounter on the stage of the Great Carrigini’s theater, I’m hesitant to lead her like this, but she says nothing about what happened in there and neither do I.

When we started walking together, she told me, “Just hold your arm behind you. I’ll be alright. Tell me when the ground slopes a lot. And with trees branches or logs, just warn me to duck or to move to one side.”

“Got it.”

I went slowly at first, scared that she might trip or fall, but she told me to speed up and not to worry about her so much, so I did.

As we hike, I keep seeing that corpse from the attic rise up and fly into the coming storm.

Ascending and ascending until he disappears.

It looked so real. The blurs always look so real.

And then a series of questions comes to me unexpectedly:
What about back at the theater? When you were alone with Alysha? Did any of that really happen, or was that all a blur too?

I’m not quite sure how to ask her about it, but I sense that I probably should.

Through the trees, I see the creek about a hundred yards ahead of us.

Even from here I can tell that the water is high.

Nicole and Mia made their way steadily up the road.

Kyle was out front, keeping them moving at a pretty good clip.

“How much farther?” Mia called to him.

“I’d say we’re more than halfway there. So, we’re making good time.”

“Whoever invented hills oughta be shot.”

Nicole held up the first aid kit. “At least we haven’t met any bears.”

“And what exactly are we looking for up here again?”

“Daniel. Zacharias. Dr. Waxford. How they all fit together.”

“Okay, I’m going to help us pass the time.”

“How?”

“By telling you a heartwarming and touching story about a pet I used to have when I was a kid.”

Kyle must have been intrigued because he stopped and waited for them to catch up. “I didn’t know you ever had a pet.”

“That’s ’cause I never told you about
Snookums.”

“Snookums?”

“That’s right.”

The three of them continued on together.

“He was a turtle who lived in this little aquarium in my room. I had him for nearly two years, and then one day I wouldn’t pick up my things and my mom made me go on a timeout. You know timeouts?”

“Sure,” Nicole answered. “Sit off by yourself, think about what you did—but are you saying you had a turtle named ‘
Snookums’
?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Seriously?”

“What’s wrong with ‘Snookums’?”

“It’s just . . . Well, it’s more of a puppy name.”

“Do I look like a puppy person to you? When I was little I heard the name ‘Snookums’ and I liked it. At first when I got him, I thought he was a girl. Ended up he was a boy. It’s kinda hard to tell with turtles, but ‘Snookums’ is sort of a gender-neutral name, though, so I don’t think he really minded.”

“How
do
you tell with turtles?” Kyle asked.

“I’ll talk you through it sometime. Now, do you two want to hear the rest of my Snookums story or not?”

They both told her yes they did and to please go on.

“So, m
y
mom put me on this timeout and I started thinking about Snookums in his aquarium and I realized it was like he was alwa
ys
on a timeout, one that would never end. And I thought of how lonel
y
he must be without an
y
other turtles around to pla
y
with. So I decided to let him go.”

The sky rumbled and Mia gazed up apprehensively. “Is that God telling me I shouldn’t have set Snookums free?”

“No,” Nicole assured her. “You’re fine. Go on.”

“There was this lake near where we lived. So, after I was done with my timeout, I told my mom I wanted to let Snookums go in the lake and she asked if I was sure and if he was going to be safe out there.”

“What’d you say?”

“To this day I still remember: ‘When you’re a turtle, it’s not about being safe, Mommy, it’s about being free.’”

“That’s a pretty insightful thing for a little girl to come up with.”

“I guess.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Anyway, we took Snookums to the shore and when we got there I picked him up and said goodbye and set him in the water—but he didn’t go anywhere. He had this whole turtle paradise dream-lake right in front of him and he just sat there staring at me and not swimming away. It was quite moving, actually. Very affecting. Finally, after a couple minutes he did swim off, but it took a while.”

“Did you ever see him again?” Nicole asked.

“Nope. Never did.”

“Hmm. Well, I like it. There’s deep truth in there, and no walls lined with skulls, so that’s a plus. And no ghostly faces in the window or shrieks from the pits of hell.”

“I’m working on a way to fit that stuff in the next time I tell it.”

“Wonderful. So what made you think of that? Of Snookums?”

“Waxford. His research. It’s like that’s what he’s trying to do with the convicts—put ’em on a timeout for hundreds of years. Solitary confinement to a degree that’s almost unimaginable.”

Kyle absentmindedly kicked a stone and it skittered off the road into the thick underbrush. “You know, your story reminds me of the Aesop’s fable about Dog and Coyote.”

“Does the dog lick anyone’s hand?” Nicole asked.

“Nope.”

“Okay, go ahead.”

Thunder growled at them.

They quickened their pace.

“In the fable, Dog and Coyote, they’re friends. Every day, Coyote would come in from the field and play with Dog, then at night he would return to the wild. One night, he invites Dog to join him, but Dog—” He paused. “Did you guys hear something?”

“Just some more thunder,” Mia said. “Why? What is it?”

“I thought I heard a car.”

They all waited. Listened.

Nothing.

“Okay, must have just been the thunder. So, Dog shows him this chain fastened around his neck. ‘My master doesn’t allow me to leave,’ Dog tells him. ‘But if you’ll stay here tonight, he can put a chain around your neck, too, and then we can always be together.’ But at that, Coyote trots away, saying, ‘I much prefer the perils of freedom to the security of chains.’”

“That’s a pretty insightful thing for a coyote to come up with,” noted Mia.

“Right, so it was just like with your Snookums story there at the end when he finally swam off to—no, that’s definitely a car.”

“Okay. Wait—I hear it too,” Nicole said anxiously. “It’s coming up the hill.”

“Get in the ditch. C’mon. Quick.”

They leapt off the road and found places to hide in the tangled thicket bordering it.

Nicole had just finished getting into position when a white minivan came around the curve.

It jaunted up toward them, passed by without incident, and then continued up the mountain.

They waited until it was gone and then lingered for another minute or so just to make sure no other vehicles were following it.

Finally, they climbed out of the ditch.

Mia brushed the dirt off her jeans. “Whoever that was, they must have a key to the gate. And they most certainly saw our car down there—which means they might be on the lookout for us now. You think we should turn back?”

“Not until we have some answers,” Nicole said firmly. “I mean, we’ve come this far. Besides, now we know for sure that something is going on up here. Let’s at least get to where we can see the Inn and have a look around.”

More thunder.

“Well, we better hurr
y
then.” Mia was e
ye
ing the threatening sk
y.
“Because that storm is definitel
y
coming this wa
y.
”

We’re almost to the creek.

Tane is far enough ahead that he won’t hear me, so, as I guide Alysha over a root in the path, I say, “I need to ask you a question and it’s going to sound weird at first.”

“What is it?”

We start down the trail again. “Back at the theater did we have . . . well . . . a moment?”

“A moment?”

“When you touched my face, when you felt my heartbeat.”

“Daniel, why would you ask me that?”

“It’s just that I’m not sure anymore what’s real and what’s illusion.”

“I’m real. I’m here, right now, with you.”

“I know that, but . . .”

We come to the place where the bridge is supposed to be.

And there’s nothing there.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

8:00 P.M.

1 HOUR UNTIL THE DEADLINE

Tane is staring at the remnants of the bridge’s foundation. “It washed away.”

The creek is bloated with brown water from the recent rains and has risen high on its banks, climbing halfway up the trees that would have lined it if the water were at normal levels.

It’s thirty feet wide.

I watch the water rush past, maybe twenty feet downhill from us. “Well, we need to find Malcolm and Petra, and the only way to do that is by getting across this thing.”

“How deep do you think it is?” Alysha asks.

“Too deep to wade across, and besides, the current’s way too fast. We’d be swept downstream the minute we stepped into the water.”

As Alysha shifts her weight to the other foot, the loose soil beneath her gives way.

She cries out as she tumbles sideways down the hill and slides toward the furious river.

I leap off the trail and race to get to her before she slips in.

Branches swipe at my face, but I fling them aside and lunge toward her, throwing my right hand forward. I miss her wrist the first time, but manage to snag it on the second try as her left foot plunges into the water.

Tane calls out to us and I tell him we’re okay.

“I’m coming down!”

I help Alysha to her feet.

“There it is again,” she says.

“What?”

“Your habit. Being there when I need you.”

“So, we did talk back in the theater.”

“Yes.”

“And I told you I have a girlfriend.”

“You did, and we agreed to discuss things later, when—”

Tane arrives before we can take this any further. “You two alright?”

“We’re good,” Alysha replies.

I assess things.

“So what’s the plan?” Tane asks me.

“I’m working on one.”

“I hope it’s better than that one you came up with in Atlanta when that guy was searching for us in the hallway.”

“You mean when I just lay on the floor and hoped he wouldn’t shoot me?”

“That’s the one.”

“I hope it’s better than that too.”

The river churns and courses its way downstream.

A seven-foot-long branch goes by, dipping and rising as the muddy water carries it toward a channel that passes between two narrow, rocky outcroppings.

I trace the branch’s movement, and watch it pass under a fallen tree that spans the river.

My plan emerges.

“See that tree, Tane?” I point. “I think it might be wide enough to walk across.”

“Let’s find out.”

When Adrian finished copying the files for General Gibbons, he returned her USB drive to her, and then led her to the one-way mirror that allowed her to peer into room 113 at subject #832145.

“And he can’t see us?”

“Correct. All he sees is a mirror.”

“It’s cracked on his side of the glass.”

“That’s from the chair.”

“So he’s tried to break out.”

“Multiple times. Quite often, actually.”

“And you let him keep the chair—why?”

“Part of his treatment.”

He left it at that.

“I see.”

To cut down on the chance of lice, Adrian’s staff had shaved the man’s head and beard while he was sedated. His tattooed eyeballs were completely black, making it impossible to tell what he was focusing on, but he was facing the mirror.

He looked wild. Savage. Barely human.

“And he’s been ‘under
yo
ur care’ since the end of
December?”

“Yes.”

“How much time has he perceived to have passed?”

“Based on our test results, I would say slightly more than forty years.”

“All in solitary confinement.”

“Yes.”

“In white room conditions.”

“Yes.”

“And how long will you continue treating him?”

“If we work from the typical fifty-year sentence for each of his eight homicides, and then add in what he would serve for his related kidnapping offenses and other crimes, we still have, well . . . a considerable amount of time left together.”

“What stops him from going insane?”

“That’s always a risk, of course, but we do all we can to keep the subjects psychologically intact. Our results continue to improve as I refine my techniques.”

“Alright, well, speaking of refining your techniques, I admit that I am more than a little intrigued by this new drug of yours. If it works properly, that might be enough to secure your funding for the foreseeable future.”

“Let’s swing by my office and I can show you the data I have. Then you can be on your way.”

She didn’t respond to that, but just walked beside him through the hall.

The minivan came to a stop.

A few moments later, Deedee unshackled Petra’s ankle, led her outside, and removed the blindfold.

The
y
were at an old building somewhere in the
mountains.

A sheath of unchecked, sprawling kudzu covered one side of the structure, finding its way nearly to the roof.

Petra had grown up in the South, so she knew that plant—and she also knew the other one that entwined with it: the dense poison ivy vines that were anchored to the forest floor and extended up the wall. Some were as thick as her leg and made her think of great snakes writhing from a giant Medusa’s head.

This building.

There was something about it.

Had she seen it before?

Part of her mind said yes, part was clouded by the way the world was fading into a dream.

And with that, she experienced it again—the hallucination she’d had the last time she visited that hypnotist.

The snakes.

All coming for her.

In her trance, she’d seen a wide stretch of broken glass before her, the shards slicing up the sunlight into little pieces and tossing jagged daggers of it back into the day.

Beyond the glass, a cliff dropped off into nothingness.

She wore only a swimsuit. Had bare feet.

When she turned around, she found herself facing barren sand dunes that drifted and blew back for miles.

Then, born from the earth, snakes began to emerge from the sand and slither toward her.

She glanced at the glass again, then back at the snakes.

A sea of serpents on the hunt for her, with no way for her to get past them on either side.

And so, the choice: run across the shards of glass and leap off the cliff into the unknown, or face the snakes.

She’d been transfixed, paralyzed, terrified as they came closer.

She tried to kick them away as they thrashed at her feet.

And then they began to scale up her legs.

She screamed and screamed and screamed and swiped at them until she lost her balance and tumbled backward.

Toward the glass.

And as she was falling, she awoke from the hypnotist’s trance.

Now, as she stood here beside the building, she had a hard time separating what had happened in that hallucination from what was happening before her with those immense serpents squirming up the building. Interlaced. Interwoven. Frozen in mid-slither.

No. They’re vines.

The snakes aren’t real.

Sergei spoke to someone on a radio, interrupting her thoughts, bringing her back to reality. After the transmission, he said to Deedee, “Henrik is moving Zacharias to the basement. He wants us to use the west entrance and take Petra up to the fourth floor. There’s a room already prepared. Waxford is keeping the general occupied, so we should be fine.”

Zacharias?

They have Malcolm?

Petra processed that as they led her to a door and Sergei put his hand on some sort of reader.

The wall of serpents hissed at her in the gloomy, cloud-swallowed light.

Then the door opened and her two kidnappers pushed her inside.