by Amy Cross
Then another, a little further ahead.
Then another, further still.
And another.
As more lights came on in a row, Annie saw that there were shelves lining either side of the long, narrow room, and that on the shelves there were scores, maybe even hundreds, of large glass jars.
And in each jar, a human brain floated in a kind of murky greenish-gray liquid.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“What are they for?” Annie whispered, stepping over to the nearest shelf and looking up at one of the brains. “Why are they here?”
“I think you know that already, Annie.”
“No, I don't.” She watched the brain for a moment, and now she could see small particles drifting through the liquid. For a few seconds, curiosity overrode any sense of revulsion that she felt. “Why would anyone keep all these dead brains here?”
“Who said that they're dead?”
“But if -”
And then she saw it.
At the base of the brain, a metal rod emerged and ran down toward the base of the jar. Small, thin wires were wrapped around the rod, and a moment later one of the wires pulsed briefly with a faint yellowish light.
“Cortex extenders,” Annie whispered.
Looking along the room, she realized there were more than one hundred brains, each in its own jar, each attached to a cortex extender. The devices looked a little different to the ones she remembered from Lakehurst, as if they'd been upgraded and improved, but they were recognizable all the same. Each extender gripped the base of a brain, holding it tight in pincered jaws.
“The same technology, put to a better use,” Doctor Schlesinger explained. “In total we have two hundred and eighteen brains here. Some were once patients here, people who showed promise. Some were inmates at local prisons. Others were patients at other hospitals, people who were... What's the polite word for them now? People with mental retardation?” He smiled. “That's not what we called them in the old days. Sometimes I think political correctness is the bane of modern life.”
“They're alive in there?” Annie asked.
“Of course, or what would be the point in having them here? Anyone can keep a bunch of dead brain on a shelf.”
He stepped over to join her, and then he reached out and used a fingertip to tap the side of the glass jar.
Immediately, several more pulses ran along the black wires that snaked and twisted out from the base of the brain.
“Do they know what's happened to them?” Annie asked. “I mean, do they know that...”
Her voice trailed off.
“Do they know that they're just brains in jars now?” Doctor Schlesinger asked. “That's a good question. We haven't had the need yet to find out. They respond to external stimuli, and I already explained that light seems to cause some mild agitation. They're being kept in a nutrient-dense soup of electrolytes and other elements, all designed to prevent degradation. A constant, mild charge has to be applied in order to keep them going. There were some failures in the early days, there was quite a lot of wastage, but we now have the procedure figured out. Things rarely go wrong. As far as we know, there's no limit to how long a properly-prepared and preserved brain can survive in this environment.”
He paused for a moment, as if mesmerized by the sight of all the brains.
“They hold a kind of fascination, don't they?” he added. “Something primeval. Instinctive. I don't think we understand them fully, Annie. I don't think we really know what they're doing in our skulls. Sometimes they look so alien to me, like they can't possibly be part of humanity. And other times they seem so comforting. It's that duality that interests me, that draws me to them. I want to understand their secrets.”
“But why?” Annie whispered, feeling a growing sense of nausea in the pit of her stomach as she looked along the shelves and saw more and more brains. “What's the point of all this?”
“You don't know already?”
She turned to him.
“She thought this would jog your memory,” he explained. “I said it was a rather melodramatic, almost theatrical way of re-introducing you to Eldion House, but she insisted that we come this way. I suppose she wanted you to see what she'd achieved in her time here.”
“Re-introducing me?” Annie replied, feeling a flicker of fear in her chest. “I've never been here before in my life.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Of course I'm sure!”
“I should turn the lights off now,” he said. “Please, for their sake, let's keep moving.”
“Why are you -”
“Annie, please,” he continued, heading to the far end of the room and reaching for another switch. “They don't like it. I'm sure you have more questions, but we should talk outside the room. There are some indications that even soundwaves can upset the brains. It might be something to do with the way the glass jars react.”
Looking around, Annie saw that several more of the brains were exhibiting the same pulses that ran down their wires. For a moment she wanted to look at more of the specimens, but finally she made her way over to join Doctor Schlesinger, who opened the next door before shutting the lights off and plunging the brains back into darkness.
Faint light pulses continued for a few more seconds in some of the jars, before dying away.
“I hate to think of them being in pain,” Schlesinger said. “They don't deserve that, not after everything they've been through. I try to avoid it as much as possible, but she...”
Annie turned to him.
“She needs them sometimes,” he continued, sounding concerned. “I respect that, but I don't have to like it. I guess it's just the price we have to pay, for the greater good of the work we perform here.” He paused, as if he wasn't quite comfortable with that sentiment. “Come on,” he said finally, “she's still waiting.”
He stepped out into the next hallway.
Annie looked back along the room, but in the darkness now she couldn't see the jars. She knew they were there, and the thought sent a shudder through her chest, and then finally she joined Doctor Schlesinger out in the hallway.
He immediately shut the door.
“I'll check on them in a few minutes' time,” he explained. “I always do, just to make sure that they're not suffering unduly. If I use UV sensors, I can observe them for longer without upsetting them. I've worked with them for so long now, they're like my...”
His voice trailed off for a moment.
“Anyway,” he added, as if he'd thought better of saying whatever he'd been about to say, “now that part's over, so it's time to go and see her. I'm surprised you're not remembering more, Annie, but it'll all come back to you soon.” He turned and gestured toward a large, wide staircase that led up toward a darker upper level of the building. “You'll be able to find your own way, I hope. I really want to get back in and check that we didn't cause any damage just now. A few of the older brains have been showing early signs of deterioration. I warned her that even this short display could be damaging, but she insisted.”
Now there was a trace of bitterness in his voice.
“I don't understand any of this,” Annie replied. “What are you doing here at Eldion House?”
“All the answers are in the office.”
“But I don't want to -”
“Hurry!” He pushed her shoulder, shoving her toward the stairs. “I've wasted enough time on this already. I'm a researcher, not a baby-sitter, and I have work to do. I'll check that this little display didn't cause any damage, and then I'll see you later. But right now, I have more important things to do. Go to the office.”
With that, he opened the door and stepped back into the darkened room, and then – as he pulled the door shut – he began talking in a softer tone.
“It's me,” he was saying, as the door bumped shut. “Don't be alarmed. I'm alone now, I managed to get rid of her. Hopefully she won't be back for a while. I'm going to look after you.”
Once the door was closed, Annie stood in silence for a moment before turning and looking up the stairs. Somehow she could sense something or someone waiting for her, and deep down she was terrified of coming face-to-face once more with Nurse Winter. At the same time, she knew she had no choice, so finally she found the strength to walk across the hallway and then to start making her way up the stairs.
When she reached the top, she immediately saw a large door ahead. A bronze plaque bore a single word that sent a shudder through her chest:
OFFICE
Taking a deep breath, Annie told herself that she couldn't turn back now. She thought of the horror she'd witnessed back at the farmhouse, when she'd seen Carrie and Richard tearing meat from human bodies, and she couldn't take the risk that maybe that future really would happen if she backed down now.
Stepping closer, she reached out for the handle, but then she hesitated again.
“Is it you?” she whispered.
She waited, half expecting to hear Nurse Winter's voice calling out from the other side of the door.
“If it's not you, then who?” she continued. “There's no-one else who could have planned this from the start.”
She took a deep breath, and then she slowly turned the handle and stepped through the door.
The office was a large, high-ceilinged room lined with bookshelves. On some of the shelves, anatomical models had been left on display, while a nearby coffee table was covered in papers and notebooks, as if somebody had abandoned some work halfway.
Looking around, she saw a desk at the far end, but there was nobody sitting at the chair. Some more papers and folders had been left in place, as if somebody had at some time been working at the desk, and a simple electric lamp had been left on. As Annie stepped closer, she could see dust drifting across the pool of light that was cast across the desk's leather writing board, and as she stopped she saw several fountain pens resting in a container next to a pot of ink. An ornate silver letter-opener had been left on the desk's far side.
Annie began to reach out and touch one of the pens, but she hesitated when she saw that her hand was trembling with fear.
“Where are you?” she whispered, looking for a moment at the empty chair, still half-expecting Nurse Winter to suddenly appear out of nowhere. “Where are you hiding?”
She waited a moment, in case a response came, and then she turned and looked toward the bookshelves that lined one wall of the office. Making her way over, she saw old, leather-bound volumes of medical texts, some of them with Latin titles that meant nothing to her. She reached up to pull one of the books out, but again her hand was trembling and she held back. Somehow, she felt certain that she wasn't allowed to touch the books.
A moment later, hearing a faint bumping sound, she spun and looked back across the room.
She held her breath, waiting to see someone.
There was nobody.
“Hello?” she called out, and now her chest felt impossibly tight with anticipation. “It's me. I'm here. I know you're here too. You have to be. If you've been waiting for me, then why don't you show yourself? Let's get this over with. I've already seen that disgusting display downstairs with all the brains. I don't know what you're doing here, but...”
She paused.
“I should have guessed that it'd be something like this,” she added finally, with a hint of disgust in her voice. “You don't know any boundaries, do you? Let me guess, you had a theory all worked out in your head, didn't you? And then you decided to do whatever it took to test the theory. That's you all over, isn't it? You're always experimenting, always using other people to test out your ideas.” She took a step forward, toward the middle of the room. “Come out, Kirsten Winter,” she continued, “and tell me what this is all about. I'm not scared of you, not anymore. I'm just sick of your games.”
She waited.
Silence.
“Are you ashamed?” Annie called out. “What exactly happened to you after you met the entity, anyway? Was that really you I spoke to the other day at Lakehurst, or was it all in my mind? Is the entity here?”
Again she waited.
Again, there was no reply.
“Fine,” she said, turning to head toward the door, “if that's how you want to be, I might as well -”
Suddenly she heard a whirring sound over her shoulder. Turning, she saw that a panel was sliding aside on the wall behind the desk, revealing a large screen. A moment later, the screen flickered to life and displayed a countdown, starting at 10 and then going to 9, 8, 7...
“Is that why you brought me here?” Annie asked. “To watch a video? What's wrong? Are you too cowardly to face me?”
The countdown continued, going from 5 to 4 to 3.
“This is pathetic,” Annie said. “If you want to talk to me, you should at least have the courage to -”
Before she could finish, the countdown ended prematurely and an image appeared on the screen. Annie stared in shock as the video began to run, and as a face stared back down at her from the screen. It was not, however, the face of Nurse Kirsten Winter, either in her original body or in the body she'd stolen from Hazel Perry. It was another face. Another very familiar face, one that Annie hadn't seen for a long time.
One that she hadn't dared look at.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Several years ago
Hurrying around the bed, Annie looked down at the old man and saw that his whole body was trembling. None of the monitors were working, but she felt certain that his readings must be off the scale. “We can't leave him like this,” she stammered, turning to Kirsten. “He's going to have another heart attack!”
“Maybe,” Kirsten replied with a nod. “That's definitely one possibility.”
“Why are you doing this to him?” Annie shouted. “What's wrong with you?”
“Thomas Lacy is the key,” Kirsten explained. “He'll help me to understand the signal at Lakehurst.”
“Where?”
Kirsten glanced at her surreptitiously and allowed herself a faint smile.
“You'll see soon enough,” she said after a moment, determined to keep up the charade. “All the pieces are coming together, and it's time to hit the road. I finally found out what happened to Annie Radford. I'd hoped to speak to the woman herself, but I'll have to make do with her grave.”
She watched Annie for a moment longer, but she could tell that – in Annie's head – the truth was hidden. Annie believed herself to be a girl named Elly, and breaking that delusion would not be the work of a moment.
“Still,” Kirsten continued, “I'm confident that I'll find what I'm looking for, and I suppose I should have guessed that she'd be buried back at Lakehurst. That's where all the roads seem to be leading.”
Again she watched, but still Annie seemed lost.
“You're insane,” Annie said finally, taking a step back. “None of this is real! You're making it all up!”
At this, Kirsten Winter allowed herself another brief smile.
***
“How can I get in touch with you?” Annie asked, standing alone in the far end of the lobby area. “If she comes back, I mean.”
In her mind's eye, she saw an illusion of herself up ahead, and a moment later that illusion turned to face her
“I know your name,” Annie continued, her voice trembling now as she imagined another version of herself speaking. “I'll contact you. We need to be ready for when she returns, because when she does, I think she might be... different. She's got what she always wanted, and that might make her dangerous, but... It had to be this way. Someone was going to find their way down there eventually, I figured Kirsten was the only one who might be able to handle it. Better her than someone like Mary.” She paused. “You should pack a small bag and keep it by the door, in case you ever need to disappear in a hurry. You should also...” She furrowed her brow. “Well, like I said, I'll be in touch.”
“But -”
“Don't follow me. I'll find you when the time is right
.”
Nearby, a clerk emerged from one of the side-rooms. Noticing Annie standing alone and arguing with herself, the clerk hesitated for a moment, wondering whether to intervene. Finally, preferring to get on with her job, she hurried on to one of the offices.
Now Annie stood in silence for a moment, trying to make sense of the pressure that seemed to be building in her head. She still believed herself to be a woman named Elly Blackstock, although flickers of reality were threatening to tear through at the edges of her mind. For a fraction of a second, she actually began to realize that she was all alone and that she was talking to herself, but then the madness dropped its veil once more and she felt a flicker of panic.
Turning, she hurried to the door. Already, she could hear another voice in the back of her head, a voice that terrified her. Even as she headed outside, she struggled to keep her mind together. She emerged onto the busy street, where the noise of traffic drowned out everything else, and then she took a couple of paces forward before the voice returned, and this time she felt a thud of nausea in her belly as she realized that there could be no mistake. Putting her hands on the sides of her head, she sank back against the wall.
“Hello, Annie,” Kirsten's voice said calmly. “While those idiots inside continue with their chatter, I need to talk to you. And I need to explain how we're going to deal with the thing we found beneath Lakehurst's ruins.”
***
A few weeks ago
“Of course you can do it,” Nurse Winter's voice hissed. “We've come this far, Annie. You can't back out now. I need you to stay strong!”
With her eyes clenched tight shut, Annie stood at the office's desk and waited for the pain to pass. Her head was filled with so many thoughts, with so many rushing and conflicting memories, she could feel her brain bursting at the seams. All she wanted was peace, even if just for a moment, but instead her mind was churning with thoughts of what she had to do next.
“Snap out of this, Annie,” Nurse Winter's voice continued. “You're starting to worry me. You've been good up to now, but the hardest part is yet to come. The video's ready, so it's time to get out of here. You know what you have to do, and there's no turning back. We've been waiting and waiting for some sign of little Katia to emerge, and now that's happened. The cults know about her. There's no way to stop this thing anymore.”
