by Steven James
I open the camera app on Malcolm’s phone.
Switch to the video mode.
Hit “Record.”
Peer at the image on the screen.
There’s the pilot, just like he should be, beside the senator’s helicopter.
All alone.
But when I move the phone aside, I see that other person.
And now I realize who it is.
The corpse from the attic.
The one who looks like me and has the same wounds Grandpa died from.
He gazes over the pilot’s shoulder toward me, and it’s disconcerting to see my own face staring at me like that.
I check things a few times with the phone, but it doesn’t record him.
He isn’t real.
But it sure looks like he is.
At last he raises his arms to each side, they morph into great black wings, and he takes off toward the churning clouds, making me think of my words to Grandpa about the monsters that I was afraid of when I was little: “They’re like giant bats. But scarier.”
The boy from my dream the night I got hit by the truck comes to mind, and I hear him tell me again that I should follow the bats, that I should find the truth.
But where? What does that mean to follow the bats?
I can’t follow this one now because the boy is gone and the blur is over.
I glance at the pilot.
He’s staring at me curiously, probably wondering what in the world I’ve been looking at.
After giving him a quick wave to reassure him that things are okay, I leave to catch up with Alysha and Tane.
I figure I don’t need to tell them what just happened.
This was a blur for me, about my own issues.
It had nothing to do with finding Petra.
CHAPTER FIFTY
In the security control room, Adrian finished instructing the general on how to use the portable tracking device to locate the subjects. The unit was about the size of a tablet computer.
“As you can see . . .” He pointed to the glowing dots in the virtual map of the Estoria. “Everyone’s safely tucked in for the night.”
She tapped the screen. “What’s this on the fourth floor?”
One dot was blinking where no prisoners were supposed to be.
That must be where Henrik has Zacharias.
Reminding himself that, since it was in the service of justice, a slight lie would be excusable, Adrian said, “That’s where we store the ink supply.”
“I see.” The general turned her attention to a nearby console with a panel of buttons and switches. It lay just beneath the reinforced window that provided a bird’s-eye view of the hallway where the subjects were kept. “And this is where you, what? Control access to their rooms?”
“Yes.”
“So, you have locked interior and exterior doors, vascular biometrics, armed guards, an isolated location, a global tracking system.”
“As well as a perimeter fence and motion sensors in the woods.”
“I would say that, given your resources, you are providing ample security.”
“Thank you.”
“Alright.” She faced him. “I’ve read the reports, but I want to hear it from you. Talk me through your critical flicker-fusion frequency tests.”
“Well, let’s see . . . So, as you know, not all biological entities process the passage of time at the same rate. Even Homo sapiens of different ages process time differently. For example, time seems to speed up the older we get.”
“And that’s where the tests come in.”
He nodded. “We flash a light at varying intervals and then study at what point, for that specific organism, the flickers of light appear to become constant.”
“And how can you tell when flashing lights appear constant to, say, a fly?”
“By studying their reaction to the frequency of the flashes over a predetermined span of time.”
The general evaluated that. “And by doing this you’ve confirmed that different species truly do perceive time to pass differently?”
Adrian’s phone vibrated and, with everything that was going on, he decided to check it.
He found a text from Deedee: Running late. Traffic is backed up. We’ll be there as soon as we can.
For a moment he considered replying and telling her not to bring Petra in, but he needed to control things and the best way to do that was by having her here at the Estoria. He could have them bring her in through a back entrance, keep the general away from her, especially at nine when—
“Adrian?”
“I’m sorry?”
“You were saying? The frequency of the flashes?”
“Yes. Right. Excuse me.” He put the phone away. “Flies have been of particular interest to me since they process things four times faster than we do.”
“So, to them, movement appears four times slower than it does for us?”
“Precisely.” He thought about showing her the Tabanidae room in the basement, but decided that, to save time, he would only do so if she specifically requested it.
“And this new drug you’ve been telling me about, the one you’ve been wanting to test—it creates this same effect in people?”
“I believe it will, yes.”
“Do you have any idea if it will alleviate pain?”
“Pain? No. It wouldn’t serve to mitigate pain. Given the way it’ll interact with the nervous system, if anything, it would intensify it.”
She looked deep in thought.
He knew that the military was interested in his research for use in interrogations. He’d never probed into specifically how her people were going to utilize it, but now her questions made him curious. “I hope I’m not being out of line to ask this, but are you thinking of using Telpatine in lieu of waterboarding?”
She didn’t deny anything. “We need interrogation methods that are just as effective but not as politically divisive.”
“But I thought studies had found that waterboarding wasn’t effective?”
“Adrian, you’re a smart man. Do you really think that in today’s political climate a government committee would come to any other conclusion?”
“Hmm. I suppose not.”
“For example, can you imagine if the Senate Intelligence Committee would actually have come out and admitted how helpful it’s been in our counterterrorism efforts? ‘Yes, you know what? Waterboarding really does help us stop terrorist attacks. We’re going to keep using it.’”
“The backlash would have been incredible.”
“Devastating might be a better word. And so, it’s no longer an option. That has left us searching for alternate techniques that will provide consistent, veridical, and reliable results during enhanced interrogations.”
“And by making those interrogations seem longer than they are.”
“When necessary.”
“That’s where the Telpatine comes in.”
“Yes.”
“As well as the other methods I’ve developed for the subjects under my care.”
“Under your care?”
“Yes.”
“That’s an interesting way to phrase things.”
“How would you have me phrase things?”
Rather than answer that, she said, “Do you have records of your tests with the Tabanidae? Video files? Anything of that nature?”
“Certainly. There’s a conference room on the second floor, just down the hall from my office. We can watch them in there.”
Nicole was driving. “We’ve gotta be close, right?”
“It looks like it,” Mia answered from the backseat. Their phones had stopped getting any reception, so she and Kyle were studying the maps from the box they’d picked up at the nature center. “But what road are we on, again?”
“I don’t think there was a sign. I thought you knew where we are?”
“I do. It’s just . . . I don’t know exactly where we are.”
Half of the mountain roads
were unmarked, some were just forest service roads. And, with the cloud cover, there was no way to tell where the sun was or which direction they were driving.
Nicole began to slow down. “Well, whatever road we’re on, it ends up ahead. We need to decide whether to turn right or left.”
“Is there a sign?”
“Nope.”
“Of course not,” Mia grumbled. “Why would there be a sign? If there was, people might actually be able to figure out where in the hell they are.”
Nicole let the car idle at the intersection.
“It looks like we go right,” Kyle said. “Then, in about half a mile, we should come to the road that leads up to the Estoria Inn—at least I think so.”
Nicole noted the mileage. “Alright. Let’s give it a shot.”
Just shy of half a mile up the mountain, they came to a dirt road that led further uphill.
A metal gate blocked the entrance.
The road they were currently on was narrow, so to allow any other cars to get through, Nicole tucked her dad’s sedan as far onto the shoulder as the steep, sloping embankment would allow, and parked.
Kyle climbed out and walked to the gate. “Sometimes these things aren’t really locked, just made to look like it.”
He rattled the chain and tried to unthread it, but it was secure.
“I’m pretty sure this is the place.”
“How far to the hotel?” Mia asked.
“A couple miles.”
“How many is a couple?”
“Two. Or so.”
“Or so?”
“The road winds around a lot. From that map there’s no way to tell the exact distance.”
“And we need to walk.”
“Yup.”
“Uphill.” Her overwhelming enthusiasm was clear in her tone of voice.
“Pretty much.”
Nicole nodded. “We can make it. We need to have a look up there.”
“Two miles isn’t a big deal,” Kyle said to Mia.
“Yeah, you run track. It’s not a big deal for you. My sport is watching YouTube videos. Thus, for me, it would be a monumentalously big deal.”
“Is that even a word?”
“It oughta be.”
“Well, I could go on alone but—”
“No,” Nicole objected. “I’m definitely coming. Daniel might be up there. I’m not just going to sit around here waiting for you to walk four miles.”
“Oh, thanks for the reminder that we need to come back two miles as well.” Mia sighed.
“But at least that’ll all be downhill.”
“There is that.”
“If we’re going to do this,” Kyle said, “I think it’s probably best for all of us to go rather than splitting up. So are we good?”
“Yeah. Okay, whatever. We’re good.”
He popped the trunk and began rooting around inside it.
“What are you looking for?”
“A flashlight. I’m not sure when it’ll get dark out here, but I don’t want to be caught on this road without some way of finding our way back to the car again, especially if it starts to rain.”
He found a mini headlamp, tested it, then slipped it into his back pocket.
While the trunk was open. Nicole grabbed the first aid kit.
“Why are you bringing that?” Kyle asked.
“If Daniel’s hurt. Or for bear attacks. I’ve got pepper spray in my purse, but—”
“Bear attacks?” exclaimed Mia.
“Sure. They’re in this area, right? I mean—”
“Nikki, a few bandages, an Aspirin, and a roll of adhesive tape aren’t gonna do us a whole lot of good if we get mauled by a bear.” Mia went for the tire iron.
“Really?” Kyle said.
“Hey. You never know.”
“Oh.” Nicole opened the door to the backseat. “One more thing—that book about all the haunted places. If that’s our cover story, we should have it with us. And also, Kyle, you said there was a blueprint of the building in it? Well, that should help us out while we’re looking around.”
After retrieving it, she locked the car, and the three of them began the trek up the road toward the old hotel.
Petra Amundsen sat on the floor in the back of the minivan.
The blindfold made it impossible to see where they were going, but she could tell they were driving uphill on a curvy road.
She recalled the first time she’d ridden in here, three days ago.
So, three days without her meds.
A long time.
Too long.
And now, in the darkness beneath that blindfold, the snakes appeared again, slithering and squirming and hissing before her.
She could see them, even though she couldn’t see anything.
It was troubling.
The real world and the world of her hallucinations were overlapping.
Some of the snakes passed across her skin. Her arms. Her neck. Her stomach.
Then she felt something scratch against her right side by her ribs—a snakebite!
But no, it wasn’t that.
It was just the wire from that bucket.
Hold it together, Petra.
Hold it together.
She repositioned herself so the wire wouldn’t cut into her.
But even then, she could still feel the leathery, muscular bodies of the serpents that she knew were not real flexing across her body.
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 neith
er 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?”
