Painless (36 page)

Chapter 81

Beth awoke Monday morning in mid-nightmare. So she did what she always did when having a bad dream—she wrapped her arms around Chuck’s broad, bare chest and pulled herself as close to him as possible. In her dream, Carolyn was being chased by the trainers, who were shooting at her as she ran toward Billy. It wasn’t much different from her other dreams since she’d arrived, but for some reason this one felt more real.

She knew Chuck wasn’t having any dreams at all, since he’d barely slept since arriving. He was fighting them with all his might, but agreed to stay with Beth the last few nights. She needed him, and that overruled everything for him, even if it meant giving in to what the trainers wanted. And she appreciated it more than ever. The hanging of Miss Rose had really shaken her up.

While Chuck was fighting the quicksand, Beth took up the Miss Rose strategy of cooperation. As Mrs. B used to say, it’s impossible to spell convert without con. She was trying to somehow communicate her plan to Chuck, needing him to join her in this strategy. But she wasn’t getting through to him, and he was becoming increasingly annoyed with her compliance.

But it wasn’t all bad news. As Miss Rose’s eyes were getting ready to roll back into her head, and her breaths became shallow, Jordan signaled his men to cut her down. Then he made an announcement about his plantation not believing in violence, but what they witnessed was an example of what
could
happen if someone in the future broke the golden rule.

Beth was thrilled that Miss Rose was still alive and kicking—literally—taking out her displeasure on Jordan’s men with her foot, after she was cut down. But Beth had to keep her distance—Miss Rose now wore the Scarlet Letter within the community. And if Beth was going to play the part of a convert, then she couldn’t be connected to her in any way.

But there was an even more lasting memory etched in her mind from the hanging ceremony. It was
that woman
. Beth spent most of Sunday wandering the grounds, hoping for a chance meeting.
Was it an illusion? Were they slipping mind-altering drugs in the food that caused hallucinations? Could that have really been her?

Chuck pulled Beth close and smiled at her.

“Good morning,” she said, gripping him tightly.

“Any day that these bastards don’t get Carolyn is a good day.”

Beth said nothing, still unable to shake the feeling that Carolyn was present.

She could tell that Chuck couldn’t take it anymore. He wouldn’t let her lose her will to fight, or become one of the soulless ghosts wandering the grounds. “I know they’re listening—I don’t give a shit,” he shot angrily.

“That’s not it, Chuck.”

“Then what is it?”

“Maybe this place would be good for her.”

“Excuse me, eh?”

“Let’s face it, we can’t give her what she needs. We had to mooch off Dana just to get her a bike for her birthday. It’s safe here—no crime, no worries, and there are a lot of other children just like her. And on top of that, the world’s best CIPA doctor is located right here on the premises.”

“I can’t believe you would say such a thing.”

“She’s better off here than on a wild goose chase with that violent wife-beater.”

“Billy is not like that and you know it.”

“The photos don’t lie.”

“Beth…”

“All I’m saying is have an open mind. Change is always hard, but maybe in this case it’s for the best.”

“Have they threatened you?”

“I’m just a pragmatic mother who wants the best for her daughter.”

She could tell she just pushed Chuck over the ledge. He stood up on the bed, all six-foot-six of him, and began yelling at the spot he thought cameras might be hidden. “You will never get Carolyn! She’s too smart for you!”

“No…please,” Beth pleaded.

He kneeled back down on the bed and held Beth steady by both her shoulders. “Listen to me, Beth. I love you—you are my everything. That stuff about me and Carolyn being your angels is bullshit. You’re
our
angel.”

Beth broke down. She couldn’t act anymore. Miss Rose did it for twenty years—she lasted a couple days. “I miss her so much!”

“I do too,” Chuck said.

“What are we going to do?”

“For starters, yell at them. It’ll make you feel better.”

He helped her to a standing position on the bed, and encouraged her to scream at the walls. “I know you’re listening. You’ll never catch her,” Beth screamed.

Chuck stood with her on the bed and wrapped his arms around her. “I will do whatever it takes to keep her safe. But I need you—I can’t do it alone.”

She pulled him as close as humanly possible. “I love you so much.”

The moment was intense. And for some reason it felt to Beth like they were saying their goodbyes.

An ear-splitting alarm cut short their embrace. Within seconds, a couple of camouflage dressed trainers burst into their room.

Chuck was immediately handcuffed, which perplexed Beth, since he’d done much worse since his arrival. She ran directly at the man who was cuffing her husband and began hitting and slapping him. The guard easily overpowered her, shoving her to the ground. But it was still worth it.

The alarm kept booming, making it near impossible to hear or think. The trainer shouted at the top of his lungs, “There has been a security breach—an intruder has tried to break in—we are taking you in for your own protection.”

Beth again felt Carolyn’s presence.
Run, Carolyn, Run!

Chuck was led in one direction, Beth in another. They traded one last look that said they could be physically separated, but not the bond between them.

Beth was brought a short distance down the hallway to a thick, vault-like door she had wondered about. The trainer punched in an electronic code and the door opened. Beth was then led inside a huge concrete room the trainer referred to as the “security room.”

The room was as crowded as a New York subway car at rush hour. Beth viewed her fellow inmates, and for the first time many of them looked human to her. Most looked scared and out of sorts. She got the feeling there weren’t a lot of security breaches at the plantation. This was new territory.

Beth suddenly felt empathy for them. They were living a normal life just like her, and then one day learned their child had a strange disease. And although they had struggles ahead, the prognosis provided relief. Then before they could even process their new reality, they ended up enslaved in Creepyville. Beth thought back to just over a week ago when she sat with Chuck, Billy, and Carolyn on movie night. It might as well have been two lifetimes ago.

The heavy door slammed shut, locking them in. It was hard to get air. Beth noted that there was only a lone vent in the upper right hand corner. The room was painted pink, in what she thought was a pathetic attempt to psychologically disarm their captors.

After fifteen excruciating minutes, the pounding of the alarm mercifully stopped. Beth’s senses slowly came back, allowing her to focus on her surroundings, and that’s when she saw the woman. She had aged, and not like a fine wine. Her face was lined with the deep wrinkles of despair and she wore twenty years of baggage under her eyes. But she had a different look than the other contented zombies who’d lost their will. It was the same look of determination Beth often saw in the mirror, or in Carolyn’s eyes.

The woman also saw her. And even though Beth was only four years old the last time they saw each other, she recognized her. They moved toward each other as if in a trance. You never forget your mother, no matter how young you were, or how hard you try to block her out of your life because it is too painful to think about her not being there.

“Mom? It’s me—Beth.”

“Beth,” she said with amazement, but then her joyful look dissipated to defeat. “After all these years, they finally found you.”

Beth stumbled on her words. “How…but…I don’t understand.”

They stood motionless, too stunned to even hug. Her mother finally reached out and took Beth by the hand, walking her to the corner of the room. “Is Mrs. B okay? She was the only one I trusted to leave you with.”

Beth was shocked by her mother’s statement, but quickly put it together—she wasn’t abandoned! “She took great care of me, but passed away when I was just eight.”

Her mother seemed to be calculating the many years since Beth was eight. The answer wouldn’t be pretty, nor would the tale that followed. The story began with her brother Nathan’s genetic disorder, which was diagnosed by a doctor in New York named Naqui. Her mother thought they were after Nathan to use him as a guinea pig for medical research and planned to silence the rest of the family. “I had no idea it was something like this,” she said with a sad shake of the head.

Then she gave blow-by-blow details of that Christmas Day, almost twenty-one years ago. How she conspired with Mrs. B to hide and raise Beth as her own, recalling the desperate call she made to her from the train station that Christmas after leaving the doctor’s office, as she felt Operation Anesthesia closing in around them. Mrs. B vowed to never divulge the story to anyone, ever. She didn’t even discuss it with her husband, agreeing to protect Beth at any cost.

Then it all started coming back to Beth. The memories she had lodged so deep in her subconscious were now journeying into the light. She remembered her mother at the train station, with tears in her eyes, telling Beth that she was going to live with Mrs. B, the woman she worked with at school. But she also remembered her mother’s warning, “
Elizabeth, you can never-ever tell anyone that the train is bringing you to Mrs. B, do you understand?”
She only called her Elizabeth when she meant business.

But Beth did tell somebody—that nice man named Joe on the train—and now she remembered how guilty she felt, like she’d let her mother down. So from that point on she hid the information of that day where nobody could ever find it, including herself.

It was like a bird swooped down and swept the giant burden off Beth’s shoulders. Feeling suddenly free, she moved to the next topic of the many queued up in her mind, “Is Nathan here?”

Her mother’s expression mixed pride and sadness. “He died years ago in battle. He always knew you were out there, Beth, and he thought what he was doing might contribute to keeping you safe, along with those like his friend Richard Kiely. Operation Anesthesia was the first group that ever accepted him and made him feel like he was special. Not like those children back in Schenectady who treated him like a freak.”

Beth was distressed—
did they brainwash her too?
She wanted her mother to be strong like Miss Rose. “So you are saying you agree with what they do here?”

“Not at all. Your brother died a hero, even if he was representing an institution that was anything but heroic. He didn’t fight for them—he fought for you.”

There was still one person she hadn’t mentioned. “What about Dad?”

“He was here with me. He died shortly after Nathan was killed. They said it was a heart attack, but I think he lost the will to live after losing you and Nathan. You two meant so much to him.” She teared up, “I miss him so much. He was such a good man.”

Beth hugged her mother, and it felt right. Like riding a bike. When they unlocked the embrace, she asked, “The disease Nathan had, it was CIPA wasn’t it?”

Her mother looked surprised. “How did you know that?”

“You have a granddaughter named Carolyn. She also has CIPA. I was a carrier. That’s why my husband and I were captured.”

Her mother’s face filled with sadness. Beth knew what triggered it: the mention of her
husband
—she had missed her daughter’s wedding. It stood as the symbol of missing out on every milestone in her life.

Then Beth remembered something. Her mother’s name was Carol Ann. All these years she could never remember it. Even when the police grilled her, or through extensive hypnosis.
What is your mother’s name—I don’t know!
But now she knew she subliminally named Carolyn after her.

“Is she here…Carolyn?” her mother asked.

“Not yet.”

“Good—if she is anything like you, it will take them a long time.”

They continued to talk and hug. Carol Ann eventually told Beth, as gently as one could, that she had nine brothers and sisters on the plantation. Beth didn’t know what to do with that one.

Finally Carol Ann broke down with guilt and said, “I failed you.”

Beth wouldn’t hear of such a thing. But she was a mother, so she understood where such a feeling would come from. “You did everything you could. You gave me life and then sacrificed your own life to save mine.”

And Beth was sure she would do the same for Carolyn.

Chapter 82

Looking to regroup, they shed the wetsuits and headed back to André’s apartment in Raleigh. André had left them the keys to both the van and the apartment. But they found the apartment decorated with yellow police tape. It looked like an early Halloween prank gone awry.

As a hunted fugitive, Billy didn’t think police lights were the type of light they should be running toward. So he turned the van around and began driving the other direction. He turned the radio to an all-news station, trying to get an update.

A suspect had been identified in the case of the murder of Dr. Samuel Jordan. His name was Tracey Jarvis. It was reported that the police had his apartment surrounded in Raleigh and were currently searching it. Dana checked the glove compartment, and sure enough, she found the fake identification André used. He was Tracey Jarvis.

According to the report, the motive was still unclear, but Jarvis’ van had been spotted by a couple of Duke students who were hiking in the Duke Research Forest shortly before the murder. The hikers grew suspicious of the supposed military man begging for change when he couldn’t answer simple questions about his military background. They called the authorities and reported the license plate number of his van, thinking he might be running a scam. “But it turned out to be much more than that,” the radio announcer eerily said.

“Now in national news, there have been new findings in the case of the kidnapped child in New York,” the news continued to pile on.

One of the findings was a Billy Harper sighting in Montreal, just days after the Lake George fire. He was spotted with the girl on a mall security camera. Another at a train station in Schenectady, where he arrived the night prior to the school shooting. The motorcycle he used during the shooting at Elmer Avenue Elementary was recovered at that same train station, and the new theory was that he had returned to Montreal by train. Still no comment from Carolyn’s parents in “seclusion.”

The radio report perked up Carolyn, who was enjoying her freedom in the back of the van without the dreaded car seat. “Hey—how’d the radio guy know our names?”

“Everybody knows a princess’s name,” Dana thought quickly.

Carolyn thought about it and seemed to like the idea.

Billy drove as fast as he could without attracting attention. His destination was the parking area outside of the Duke Medical School, where they’d left their vehicle the day before during their Jordan stakeout. He was hoping the Camaro would still be there. But it wasn’t. Probably towed.

But regardless, they couldn’t risk being spotted in the incriminating white van. They ditched it and speed-walked through the Duke campus. Carolyn negotiated for another round of face painting, but the bruises from her wall fall had already colored her face. She whined when she didn’t get her way. Whining was usually a clear sign she was hungry. Billy’s stomach was also growling, so they walked off the campus to look for a place they could both eat and melt into the background.

Then Carolyn suddenly pointed and said, “Hey—that’s where my Dad works.”

Billy was first confused, but then realized what she meant. In front of them was a Durazzo’s restaurant with a
Grand Opening
banner draped over it. The place looked practically empty this morning, giving Billy a sudden craving for Mexican food.

After they were seated, Dana took Carolyn to the ladies room. She returned ten minutes later with what looked like a different little girl. Dana had used her skilled makeup artistry to cover up Carolyn’s numerous cuts and bruises. She also reported that Carolyn’s gunshot wound looked as good as a gunshot wound could look. Carolyn had one of her fevers, but Dana got her to take her medicine. Actually, she bribed her to take it in exchange for an enchilada. The breakfast of champions.

They took a seat in a booth and stared with exhaustion at plastic menus. Billy’s attention was diverted to another “Breaking News Alert” playing out on a mounted television. The van had already been spotted on the Duke campus. It was less than twenty minutes since they ditched it! Things were moving too fast.

Billy figured dashing out of the restaurant would lead to unwanted attention, so they stayed and ordered. But by the time their morning enchiladas arrived, his resolve had hit rock bottom. The police might not have been onto them yet, but for all he knew, Operation Anesthesia could be in the next booth. Being spotted during the failed invasion was like sending them an engraved invitation to announce they were in the area.

Then a recognizable voice reverberated throughout the restaurant, calling out his name.

Billy instinctively looked toward the voice. When he saw who it was, he felt sick.