By the time Blake was finished telling his story, Renee was doubled over, laughing so hard that tears were pooling in the corners of her eyes.
“I feel like I should send poor Billy a thank you card,” she gasped, falling into another fit of laughter, which Blake found to be too contagious, and the tense, awkward moment faded away.
“You know,” Renee said once she had caught her breath. “Technically, this is all happening in our heads, so neither one of us has actually had a real first kiss yet.”
“Is that so?” Blake asked, propping himself up on his side. He leaned down and grazed his lips against Renee’s. “So, you’re saying that doesn’t feel real to you?”
“That’s not exactly what I meant,” she teased, tracing the curve of his lips with her index finger. “I just meant-” Renee’s words were cut short and her eyes went wide with terror.
“Renee, what’s wrong?” Blake asked, suddenly panicked. But before she could reply, there was a loud pop, like a cork being pulled from a champagne bottle, and Renee was gone.
Chapter 26
Renee had no idea what was happening to her. One minute, she was snuggled up to Blake, happier than she had been in forever, and then suddenly, it felt as if a giant hook had looped around her chest and all of her breath was knocked from her lungs. Seconds later, she was yanked violently back into her own mind. She rolled onto her side, panting and out of breath, when she saw a pair of booted feet and realized that she wasn’t alone. Dr. Grantham stood over her, glaring. His hands were clenched so tight into fists that his knuckles were white.
“What are you doing here?” Renee asked, inching back away from the doctor as she tried to scramble to her feet. Dr. Grantham lashed out with a violent kick that landed just under her ribs and sent her sprawling back onto the ground, gasping for air.
“Don’t you dare question me, you pathetic little bitch!” he growled, taking another menacing step closer.
Renee tried to get up, but the searing pain in her lungs made the movement impossible. She instead tried to drag herself away on her elbows, but the doctor’s booted foot slammed down on her back, pinning her to the ground. At the same time, he reached down to grab a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back at an unnatural angle. The pain was worse than anything she had felt in her life, yet she was silent, unable to scream or cry out in agony because of the doctor’s hold on her.
“You made a liar out of me, Renee,” the doctor hissed menacingly in her ear, giving her hair an extra yank for emphasis. “You could have won. You could have killed him easily, but no. You are not the champion I mistakenly thought you were. You are not clever. You are not unique. You, Renee, are nothing more than an ordinary slut, with no ability to think for yourself.” He slammed her head violently against the ground with a sickening crack and stepped away. “Get up, Miss Ward.”
Getting up was the last thing Renee wanted to do. Her head throbbed and her vision was blurred by both tears and blood. The burning in her lungs only allowed the shallowest of breaths, but she didn’t dare find out what would happen if she defied Dr. Grantham’s orders. With shaking arms, she pushed herself up into a kneeling position. As she glanced around her surroundings, her stomach sank. They were in an empty void. There were no doors. No door back into Blake’s mind and no door back into the doctor’s head. What was worse, she realized as her silent screams for help went unanswered, the connection she shared with Blake was gone.
“Your foolish little hero can’t save you this time,” Dr. Grantham confirmed with a cruel smile. “That sensation you just experienced, the one that I can only assume was most unpleasant, was your disconnection from the terminal. The humane method would have been to coax your conscious mind back into your own body first, but I must admit, my dear, I’m not feeling terribly charitable toward you at the moment.”
“What do you want from me?” Renee rasped in a shallow, wheezing voice. Her mind raced at the implications of the doctor’s admission. If she and Blake were no longer connected, then there was a chance, at least, that he was safe. If she was lucky, he was using this time to strengthen his body so that he, at least, could escape Dr. Grantham’s hellish nightmare world.
“What I want, little girl, is a challenge,” he replied, taking a step back and throwing his arms out in an expansive gesture. As he did, the fairy forest of Renee’s creation sprang up around them and she wondered what kind of a trick the doctor was playing now.
“Had you played by the rules, I might have spared you a few moments to savor your victory before facing your final battle,” he continued. “Rest assured, my dear, our young Mr. Carter has only been given a momentary reprieve. Once I dispose of you, he and I shall play a similar game.”
“Game?” Renee asked. She managed to get to her feet, but most of her body still throbbed with pain. Whatever ‘game’ the doctor had planned, Renee wasn’t very optimistic about the outcome.
“Yes, my dear, a game! Children love games, do they not?” He began chuckling, a light and airy laugh that was at odds with his cruel nature, but it still made Renee’s skin crawl. “I could kill you right now, you know,” he said, shifting back into the cold, detached persona she was used to. “I could be quick. I could even make it painless, but where’s the fun in that? I said I wanted a challenge, Renee, so I expect you to give me one. Your mind is your arsenal, child, use it to your advantage. In the end, well, I’m afraid you won’t win, but I’ll give you a head start nonetheless.”
“And what is it, exactly, that you expect me to do?” Renee asked warily. Already her mind was racing through possible ways she could take the doctor down and possibly save herself. The problem was that not only did Dr. Grantham have the advantage of being the person who created this hellish existence, but also by entering her mind, the doctor knew everything that Renee knew. Her strongest advantage was completely useless.
“I expect you to run, you silly girl,” replied Dr. Grantham. As he spoke, a particularly deadly looking serrated edged knife appeared in his hand. Renee recognized the unique shape of the knife as Serge Franks’ weapon of choice. It was a custom blade, capable of cutting through bone, which he used to dismember his victims while they were still alive. “Run and hide, Miss Ward. Cover your tracks and set your traps. But know this, my dear; I will find you.”
Blake sat in the empty void of his mind, paralyzed by fear and grief. For the last hour, he had called out to Renee, both aloud and in his mind, but he hadn’t received a response. There were several possible reasons for this. One terrible, unspeakable reason in particular loomed in the back of his mind, but he pushed it away, unable to even consider the possibility. Still, it was hard to ignore the fact that their lives had been, and still were, in the hands of a murderous and psychotic doctor, and Renee was gone.
“No,” Blake muttered to himself, wiping the tears from his eyes. “No, she’s not dead. She can’t be dead. Do you hear me?” he shouted, slamming his fists onto the ground at his sides. “Renee, answer me please!”
He looked out over the expanse of his mind, watching the pulsing light travel over the previously dead nerves. He had her to thank for that. How many times had she selflessly saved his life? Yet here he was, powerless to do anything when she needed him most. No, he realized, standing up and walking towards the glowing web, not completely powerless. There might not have been much he could do while trapped in his own mind, but again, thanks to Renee, Blake was no longer trapped in his own mind. Even though he was weak, he could at least try to get answers.
Though it disgusted her to be so cowardly, Renee did not dare defy the doctor’s command to run. Despite the burning pain in her side and the leftover headache from where he had yanked her hair, she ran deep into the forest as fast as her legs could carry her. Dr. Grantham had only said he would give her a head start. He did not specify exactly what he had meant. Not that it mattered. As she ran, Renee searched her mind for an advantage, anything that the doctor might not have seen that she could use against him.
For a moment, she considered waking herself up. She wondered if it was possible that the doctor would be booted into his own mind if she was no longer there to occupy it.
Dammit, no!
She realized that she had been in Blake’s mind several times while he was awake. If anything, it would be a stupid move that would leave her vulnerable to whatever it was the doctor had planned for her.
Now wait a minute!
She stopped suddenly, struck by the realization that there wasn’t actually anything that Dr. Grantham could do while in her head. He could hurt her, certainly, but he couldn’t kill her. Not without killing himself in the process. She had discovered this while she occupied the body of Randy Lawson. Even after Blake had brought Randy’s body back, they had both nearly died before making their narrow escape.
Again, she considered waking herself up, but once again she rejected this idea. While awake, she was vulnerable. Most likely, the doctor would realize this and simply overtake her to drag her back. What she needed was a way into the doctor’s mind that didn’t involve him dragging her there to murder her.
A feather light touch grazed Renee’s shoulder and she jumped, spinning around in anticipation of an attack, but there was no one there. She shrugged it off and admonished herself for becoming scared of her own shadow. But several minutes later, the feeling returned, only this time, it felt as if a hand rested on her shoulder. Renee spun in all directions, suddenly worried that she was losing her mind. The pressure remained, yet she was still completely alone, and she could have sworn she heard a faint whisper.
Renee…
There it was again! She turned once more and her heartbeat quickened. Standing on a branch just a little above eye level was Blake’s brilliant red and orange phoenix.
After he awoke, Blake turned his head immediately to the side and let out a sigh of relief. Renee’s body still lay in the bed next to his. The gentle, almost unnoticeable rise and fall of her chest lifted the heavy weight from his. Using all of the strength he could muster, he lifted himself up on his elbows. Beyond Renee, he saw the blonde head of Dr. Grantham lying on another bed. Blake followed the wires of the electrodes back to the computer bank behind them, noting that neither Renee nor the doctor was plugged into the same machine that he was.
That, at least, explained why they could no longer communicate. He hadn’t realized how much he had come to depend on the connection until it was gone. Without it, without Renee, it felt as if a part of his heart had been ripped away, replaced by a hollow, empty void. He lowered himself back down on the bed. His arms were weak and he was completely exhausted, but he couldn’t go back. There was no reason to go back ever again. He was going to get his strength back. He was going to save Renee. And then together, they were going to escape.
Blake reached out across the two-foot space between his bed and Renee’s. His fingertips trailed briefly across her shoulder before his strength gave out. After a moment’s rest, he shifted himself closer to the side of the bed and reached out again. This time, he was able to rest his hand completely on her shoulder. Despite the chilled air of the lab, her skin was warm beneath his palm. Blake felt the comforting warmth travel up his arm and across his body, filling the void in his chest with hope.
Renee, he thought, concentrating on sending his thoughts to her. It was silly, he realized. Without the computer connecting them, there was no mental connection either. Yet still, he felt compelled to try.
Renee… I…
Blake’s energy was draining fast. His breathing slowed and his eyelids drooped. He tried everything he could think of, flexing his fingers and toes, taking and holding deep breaths, and even pinching himself, but he was losing the battle. He was exhausted. He had worn himself out and he desperately needed to rest. His hand began to slip from Renee’s shoulder, but just before it fell away, he could have sworn he heard her voice.
Blake? Are you there?
Chapter 27
Blake!
Renee called out several more times, but she didn’t receive a reply. Her heart sank as she realized that she must have just imagined that she had heard him. Still, though, she wasn’t ready to write off the magnificent bird before her as a hallucination.
“Are you here to help me?” she asked quietly as she ran her fingers down the soft, fire-tipped feathers on the bird’s back.
The phoenix let out a low, whistling note of approval before unfurling its wings and flying off into the darkest, densest part of the forest. Despite the ominous tangle of dangerous looking vines that tried to block her way, Renee followed, knowing somehow that the phoenix was leading her in the right direction. After a few tight squeezes, she came to a small cave made of dense foliage. There she found a small door, no more than two feet tall, nearly hidden by the high grass. Without hesitation, Renee got down on her hands and knees and crawled through the portal.
The memories picked up exactly where she had been pulled out before. Dr. Grantham was asking Serge Franks to verify for the record that he was submitting himself to a rehabilitation treatment in lieu of the death penalty. Franks agreed readily to the terms, even after the doctor made him aware of the fact that even if the treatment was successful, he would live his remaining days in the custody of the research facility. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, Serge Franks had died by lethal injection on the execution date that had been announced publicly.
Moments later, Renee discovered the real reason that the doctor’s memories were muddled together with those of the serial killer. Rehabilitation therapy required putting Franks into an induced coma. He was then connected to a computer terminal that would manipulate his brainwaves, creating a realistic world where he was allowed to act without consequence. Dr. Grantham would then analyze certain patterns and make small changes to the program, which were meant to essentially awaken Franks’ dormant moral compass.
Although it should not have come as a surprise to learn that the man who killed hundreds and evaded police for over a decade had a higher than average intelligence, Renee was still shocked at how quickly Franks learned to manipulate the world within his mind. Every single trick that she and Blake had managed to pick up, Franks had figured out in a matter of days. Not only that, he had made several other discoveries that neither of the teens had known about. Within a week, he had set a successful trap for the doctor.
With Dr. Grantham’s consciousness trapped in his body, Serge Franks was free to take over the doctor’s life. He could move about freely in public, knowing that he wore the face of a highly regarded member of society. Not only that, but in addition to his own superior intellect, he now carried in his head all of Dr. Grantham’s knowledge as well. His first plan was to extract revenge on the judge who had passed the death sentence. Getting to the man was quite easy, but as Franks stood over the bed, listening to the heavy, wheezing snores of a man who ate, drank, and smoked more than was advisable, he decided to put all that the doctor knew to good use.
Disguised as Dr. Grantham, Serge Franks stood in a hospital room, a sympathetic smile plastered on his face as he spoke to a mousy woman who was clearly distressed. Behind them, the corpulent judge’s unresponsive body lay on a gurney, attached to several life support machines.
“I am so very sorry, Mrs. Billings. The aneurysm was allowed to block the supply of oxygen to his brain for too long. I’m afraid the damage that has been done is not reversible. Your husband’s living will states that he does not wish to remain on life support in such an event. I understand that you must be completely devastated at the moment, but your husband’s life may still be able to save others.”
The distraught widow readily agreed to allow her husband’s body to be used for scientific research. She believed she was helping prevent others from suffering the same fate, completely unaware that the man who spoke to her was in fact the last man her husband had sentenced to death.
Franks spent more than a week hunting and torturing Judge Billings inside his own mind before he finally ki
lled him. It was then that he realized that not only was this method infinitely easier to get away with, but it also allowed his twisted mind to remove the limits of the real world, finding new and creative ways to kill. Soon he learned that he didn’t need to do anything more than manipulate the subject’s own subconscious and watch their own fears do his work for him.
For more than a decade, Franks watched as his victims tortured themselves to death. Some took days while others managed to survive weeks. Every so often, he would enter a mind and take an active role in their demise, just to keep his skills sharp. Of course, it hadn’t taken very long for Dr. Gasparo, Grantham’s lab assistant, to grow suspicious of the number of test subjects who were dying. But as a simple assistant, he was easily silenced and soon he became instrumental in procuring even more victims.
But then one day, an interesting challenge appeared in the most unlikely form. A young boy of sixteen lay dying in the county hospital, having been beaten nearly to death with a tire iron. In addition to the injuries sustained in the attack, his body was riddled with scars, indicating a life of abuse that was all but confirmed when the doctors met the boy’s drug addicted mother and the vile waste of life she called a husband. Given the life the boy had led, Franks was certain that his subconscious was full of enough nightmares that he would barely survive long enough to make it worth the effort of transporting him to the laboratory.
But to his surprise, the boy quickly adapted to his environment. It was almost as if he was aware of the situation he had found himself in and he was actively trying to manipulate it. Several times, Franks considered jumping in and finishing the boy off himself. After all, he couldn’t have the child taking up valuable real estate in the lab for nothing. But something about the situation fascinated him and another idea began to form. He began to open a link between the boy and his other victims, hoping to pit them against each other. At first, Franks found it irritating that the boy refused to fight. When it was discovered that he actively tried to help the others become aware of the true nature of their situation, Franks became angry. Again, he considered ending the boy’s life.
Kind of Like Life Page 19
