Shine: Season One (Shine Season Book 1)

by William Bernhardt

“I didn’t say that. But I don’t think any judge is going to help me.”

  “There are currently fourteen civil actions filed against you by people and businesses in Seattle. They’re trying to put together a class action suit.”

  “Then deal with that. Don’t try to litigate me out of here.”

  “Do you want to be incarcerated forever?”

  “I’d rather be here than in Mordock. And that’s where they’d put me if by some miracle you got me sprung from this joint. They’d find an excuse. And what if you lose?”

  Beverly’s back stiffened. “Do you know how many cases I’ve lost in all the years I’ve practiced? One. Out of a hundred and six. And that was only because some scrawny Oklahoma lawyer made my client cry on the witness stand.”

  “Memory jog—I’m not your client. I know you like to play with people. It’s all a game to you. But this is my life and I don’t want you messing it up.”

  “I’m your mother. Interfering is my job.”

  “Don’t I know that. All too well.”

  “Are you suggesting I messed up your childhood?”

  “Frankly, Beverly, you were never around enough to mess up my childhood.”

  “Someone had to make a living. After your father disappeared.”

  “This is my life, not a case. So stop meddling and leave me alone.”

  Beverly folded her arms across her chest, a sure sign that she felt wounded. But she would never say that. She would never let it show. Just like me.

  “Do you know how much I worry about you?”

  “Not as much as you worry about your clients.”

  “Are you criticizing me for having a job? I had to do something, didn’t I? Your father didn’t give a damn about you, so I—”

  “Don’t talk that way about my father!”

  “Really? After all these years? He abandons you, I protect you. So he’s the hero. Parenting is so unfair.”

  “He did not abandon me.”

  “Then where is he, huh?”

  “I don’t know. But I know he wouldn’t—”

  “You know nothing about him. He was never a strong man. Smart, yes, but strong, never. And the truth is, after you nearly died, he lost it. Cracked. So I had to be strong. Had to take care of things. I didn’t have the luxury of running away.”

  “You did run away.” She turned her back so Beverly wouldn’t see the tears. “You just did it in a different way.”

  “Fine. Just fine.” Beverly snapped her briefcase closed. “I came to see if I could help you. I almost lost you once. I don’t want it to happen again. The last time—” Deep breath. “You were too young. You barely remember it. You have no idea how hard it was on me.”

  She pressed her hand against her forehead. “Just give me some time, okay? To figure out…I don’t know. I’ve got all these people telling me there’s something wrong with me. But I don’t feel like there’s anything wrong with me. I’m different, sure. When did that become a crime?”

  Her mother’s eyes widened. “Aura! You haven’t—You haven’t—”

  “No. I haven’t Shined.” Not that she was going to tell Beverly about, anyway.

  “You know, if you get caught doing that again, even I won’t be able to help you.”

  “Thank you so much. I know.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “I have to go to my next session. Attendance is mandatory.”

  “Fine. Fine.” She grabbed her briefcase. “Can I visit you again? Sometime? I mean—not tomorrow. But sometime?”

  “Sure. Whatever.”

  Beverly held out her arms and, for a moment, she thought the woman might actually embrace her. A thought that both softened and terrified her.

  She held up a finger, cutting that possibility off at the pass. “And no lawsuits.”

  “Right.” She lowered her arms. “If anyone asks, I’ll just say my daughter is taking a rest cure at an island-fortress nuthouse.”

  “Say I’m vacationing near Malibu.” Her lips turned upward slightly. “Sounds cooler.”

  Beverly started toward the exit. “Oh, I almost forgot. That boy wants to visit you.”

  “Taj? Taj Sharma?”

  “Right. The Indian. I suppose I don’t need to say—”

  “That you don’t approve. No, you don’t need to say it.”

  “You told me the two of you were just friends.”

  “We are.”

  “His father’s a police officer, you know. The boy has been by the house. He seems very concerned about you.”

  “He’s a good friend.” She did not add: who was around when I needed someone. Who was there when I felt lonely or depressed. Who defended me when the other kids made fun of me. Unlike you. “So if he wants to visit me, great.”

  “I see.” Beverly inhaled deeply. “Do be careful, Aura. I want to help you. But the climate outside these walls—it’s getting crazy. And crazy people do crazy things. You’ve had enough of that in your life. So please don’t stir up any more trouble. I am good at what I do.” Beverly placed a hand on the side of her cheek. “But there are some things—and some people—even I can’t protect you from.”

  19

  Aura crept out of her room as quietly as possible. All the other girls were asleep. But she wasn’t. The weird dreams with the old man and the girl with the ankh tat wouldn’t give her a break. Perhaps she should’ve let Twinge give her a Shine sleeping pill.

  If she had to be awake, she might as well conduct some overdue exploration. Exactly what Mark warned her not to do. But she was going to do it anyway. And she knew exactly where she wanted to start.

  The corridors were pitch black, with barely a hint of moonlight illuminating them. This place creeped her out enough during the day. The darkness made it worse. She thought she heard a faint humming in the background, like some sort of engine on low.

  Her foot touched down on the hardwood floor, making a creaking sound she’d never noticed during the day. Now it seemed thunderous.

  Get a grip, Aura. You can do this. You have to do this.

  In the outer corridors, she clung to the shadows, bearing in mind what Twinge said. They have eyes and ears everywhere. Hidden cameras and microphones. Here at your friendly neighborhood rehab.

  She also knew that Judy, the Pep Club president cum floor supervisor, supposedly watched them at all times, even at night. Fortunately, Judy appeared to be sound asleep at her desk.

  She wasn’t surprised. All that enthusiasm must be exhausting.

  Her knowledge of the grounds had improved dramatically since she first arrived, but then, she’d been working hard at it. She knew it was far too dangerous to take notes, so she kept it all in her head. Fortunately, she had a very good head, as Dr. Hope had noted. When she concentrated, she could store almost anything away.

  The hypnotherapy room was unlocked.

  She slid inside and took a closer look at that padded chair. Specifically, the apparatus dangling from the ceiling.

  Two inverted conical glass tubes emerged from either side of what looked like an ersatz helmet.

  She didn’t remember wearing it. But of course Hope probably placed it over her head while she was…wherever she went for about forty minutes. After she soared down the imaginary staircase.

  She stood on the chair and tried the helmet on, careful to make sure nothing locked into place. When properly adjusted, the two cones pointed directly at her temples.

  What were they doing to her? What were they doing to all the girls?

  Then she saw the needle.

  On the armrest. About midway up. Under a glass cover.

  She lifted a hinged lid.

  A mechanical arm whirred into action and the syringe rose, needle pointing out. A moment later, a lever pushed against the plunger and the chemical contents, whatever they were, spurted out.

  Were they giving her something or taking something? Or both?

  Was that why she couldn’t sleep? Were they messing with her brain? Drugging her? Draining her? Mak
ing her more compliant?

  Too many questions. And far too few answers.

  She crept out of Hope’s office, hands shaking, sweat trickling down the sides of her face.

  Eventually she made her way outside. Five minutes later she was near the stables.

  Where she’d found Perfume.

  She climbed over the fenced-off area into what looked like a small pasture. Presumably this was where the equine therapy had taken place, once upon a time. People overcoming their frailties by working with horsies. Whatever. Glad that got chainmailed before she arrived.

  The place seemed dead quiet. Would be stranger if it weren’t, at two in the morning. But there was still something deeply unsettling about it.

  She moved toward the stables, feeling as if she were traveling off-world, entering a different dimension, one where the usual laws of physics and the five natural senses no longer functioned. Her steps made no sounds. Had she acquired a new ability? Shine ninja?

  Okay, kiddo, bring yourself back to earth. Focus on the mission.

  The stable was a long rectangular building. Probably locked. But she still gave it a try.

  She gasped out loud, then felt embarrassed for having done so.

  The door opened.

  No reason for it to be locked, as there was absolutely nothing of interest inside. At least, that was her first impression.

  She crept inside, gently closing the stable door behind her.

  The interior was mostly what she might expect. Individual stalls. Lots of smelly hay. Saddles and bridles and other stuff she didn’t know the names of, some of it hanging on the walls by rusty nails, some of it tossed haphazardly on the floor. Everything looked as if it had not been used for a long time.

  Then she saw a faint light.

  A light seeping, just barely perceptibly, through the cracks in the floor.

  Something was down there.

  She walked the full length of the stable, searching for stairs or doors. She was not surprised that she found neither. You don’t install a secret lair if you want casual visitors to detect it.

  She looked harder.

  She went outside and examined the stable. The light was faint but there was enough moonlight to give her a sound picture of the framework. She had a good head for spatial reasoning.

  She went back inside. And then she was certain.

  This building was bigger on the outside than the inside.

  The walls on the east end did not extend as far as they should.

  Or perhaps they did, it occurred to her, but their full length was masked by a false wall.

  She pressed against the east wall, one hand at a time, up and down and all the way across.

  Till she felt the wall give.

  It was a slight difference, but there was a difference. She pressed harder.

  The wall slid away. A passage about the size of a standard door appeared behind the paneling.

  There might be a more elegant approach, a secret button or a magic password, but she didn’t care. She got the door open.

  Now what?

  She knew that if she stepped in there, someplace she was not supposed to be, there could be no turning back. If anyone found out, she’d be sent to Mordock. Or killed.

  Beverly had warned her not to do anything stupid. Not to cause trouble. Not to offend the powers-that-be.

  So did Lieutenant Sharma. So did Mark.

  She had always been a smart girl.

  But she had also never been a girl who liked to be told what she could and could not do…

  She stepped inside. The door closed behind her. Another door opened, leading to a staircase.

  She descended. And this time, the stairs weren’t metaphysical hypnotherapy steps. She was traveling downward. Beneath the stables. On steps she could not see. She took it slowly, one step at a time, careful not to trip and tumble down a flight that might go on forever.

  At the foot of the stairs, she bumped into a wall. She jumped a foot into the air. What was it? It felt cool to the touch.

  Some sort of metallic panel. Was it a dead end? A wall?

  Or another door?

  She reached out. She pressed harder on the panel.

  The door retracted with a pneumatic whooshing sound.

  Stealth mode was over. If anyone was in there, they knew they were getting company.

  She tentatively stepped inside.

  This room extended for the entire length of the stable and, if she wasn’t mistaken, even more.

  She smelled something. It took a moment to realize what it was.

  Honeysuckle lemon.

  Exactly what Perfume had warned her about.

  She groped around on the wall till she found a switch and turned on the lights. The sudden brightness blinded her for a few moments.

  Then she saw everything.

  Rows and rows and rows of cells. Detention cells. Prison cells. As far as the eye could see.

  There were prisoners in every cell.

  And they were all girls. All young girls about her age.

  She didn’t have to speak to them to know the truth. They were Shines.

  She tentatively approached the first cell. The girl inside slept and did not waken. She slept on the cold hard metallic floor. With a chain cuffed to her left ankle. Like a dog chained to its doghouse.

  The girl in the next cell was manacled to the wall, arms over her head. Some kind of iron rod pierced her stomach. It was connected to machinery descending from the ceiling. Turning like a grinding millwheel, grinding her insides.

  Why? And how could she possibly survive that?

  The girl in the next cell was strapped to a bed. An acrylic helmet squeezed her head and something repeatedly jabbed in and out of her right arm. A red beam crackled between the two cones on the helmet. It was doing something to her brain—but what?

  The girl shook violently back and forth. Her eyes and mouth were wide open, as if she were screaming. But no sound emerged.

  Which made it all the more terrifying.

  The girl in the next cell bled from a dozen different wounds—her ears, her eyes, her mouth. Blood streamed down her neck, coursed down her naked body. But somehow, the blood never ran out and she never died.

  She could feel the girl’s pain, like a palpable force.

  Their eyes locked together. She didn’t have to read lips to know what the girl was thinking.

  Help me! Please! Help me, or kill me.

  End this.

  She focused as hard as she could, trying to find the pain, trying to heal it. But she couldn’t make a connection. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t any kind of pain or injury she recognized. Hard as she scanned, she found nothing to heal.

  “Shocked, Aura?”

  She whirled around.

  Dr. Coutant stood behind her. With Joseph and the other two goons.

  “You’re up a little late. And in violation of, oh, I don’t know. Every rule we have.”

  “What are you doing to these girls?” Her voice was so low it was almost a growl.

  “What has to be done.”

  “You’re torturing them.”

  “You shouldn’t judge things you know nothing about.”

  “Let them go or I’ll tell everyone what you’re doing down here.”

  “No, you really won’t.” Before she knew what happened, Coutant had slipped some kind of collar around her neck. A plastic chain dangled from it. Coutant jerked the chain, making her lurch forward.

  She pulled away, but Coutant held tight. The plastic cut into her flesh.

  “Stop it.”

  Coutant handed the chain to Joseph, who gave it a swift downward jerk, hurling her to her knees.

  “You’re just too smart,” Coutant said. “That’s your curse. It was mine, too. The other girls know something isn’t right here. They suspect, at the very least. But their instinct for self-preservation tells them not to ask questions. Not to go snooping around in the middle of the night.”

  Cou
tant made a motion, and Joseph pulled the chain, dragging her along the corridor. She tried to stay on her feet but Joseph moved too fast. Once she was down on the floor, she couldn’t get up again. Her knees scraped. She cried out, then hated herself for it.

  “There are so many things you don’t understand, Aura. To be fair, you haven’t had a chance. All you know is what you’ve been told and what little you’ve been able to figure out. And that isn’t much.”

  “Are—are—” She tried to speak, but her chin kept banging against the hard metallic floor. “Are you—going to put me in one of those cells?”

  “Wouldn’t that make my life simpler. No, you’re too valuable. Our work with you is not yet complete. And although I’m sure this will be difficult for you to believe at the moment, I really do care about you. All I want is what’s best for you. So we have to control you somehow.”

  Good luck with that, you bitch. She thought, but did not say aloud.

  “Fortunately, the moment has been prepared for.” Coutant stopped at the far end of the corridor. Joseph jerked the chain, slamming her against the cell.

  She clutched her head. Pain radiated throughout her skull.

  “Look inside, Aura. Look inside the cell.”

  She did. And screamed.

  “Mommy!”

  Beverly hung from the ceiling, a rope tightly noosed around her neck. Another rope wrapped under her arms held her suspended in midair. Just barely. It had to be painful. But she knew her mother was tough and—

  Then she saw the bugs.

  Black bugs, like oversize roaches, scrambling across Beverly from head to foot.

  Beneath her skin. Just like Perfume. Only a thousand times worse.

  Her mother’s swollen limbs looked as if they might burst at any moment. The subcutaneous black lumps slithered beneath Beverly’s skin, up and down her neck. Hideous black creatures skittered out of her mouth, but others crawled in just as quickly.

  Their eyes locked. Beverly saw her daughter on the other side of the cell. Watching. Doing nothing to help her.

  “And let me share one more little tidbit I’ll bet you didn’t know, Aura. Your mother is pregnant.”

  Her eyes ballooned. “That’s impossible.”

  “That’s the truth. You’re going to have a little sister. If the fetus survives this treatment.”