Lukas stepped toward Caster until the toes of their shoes collided. “As you well know, the neurosurgeon was scheduled to administer the abstergent this afternoon.”
“I’ve freed up his schedule.”
Lukas drew back his fist. A born nurturer, never in his life had he wanted to hear the sound of bones breaking—until now.
Father would strip him of the lab. In an instant, everything he’d worked for would be gone. Did he really want to afford Caster that joy?
His forearm trembled. “You’re not worth it,” he growled, dropping his arm.
“You didn’t follow protocol. The OLG was applying pressure. Father gave you a timeframe, and you exceeded it. I wasn’t about to let the lab go down for your emotionally saturated mistake.” Caster took a step back. “In addition, I couldn’t risk her being around Gatlin. She had a Bible, remember? What if Gatlin’s SAP levels have depleted? What if some of that venom soaked in?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Gatlin’s fleshcard would alert you of a decreased SAP level. You’re paranoid.”
Caster’s gray eyes flashed silver. “I’ll be sure to pass that along to Father.”
“By all means, tell Father. But you’ll have to beat me to it. The next conversation I have will be with him. How are you planning to explain the cancellation of Dr. Fuller’s flight from Baltimore? His plane ticket to Sickle Ridge is evidence that I was going through with the procedure. I’m convinced Dr. Fuller wasn’t thrilled about the cancellation, either. He’s a talented neurosurgeon and a busy man. He and Father are good friends. There’s a strong possibility he’s already called him to complain.”
“Don’t try to intimidate me, Lukas. You’re no good at it. When I explain how close you’ve grown to the test subject, Father will understand why I was forced to do what I did. He will demand you find another test subject—perhaps ask for my help in the matter.”
Lukas curled his hands in front of his brother’s face. “If you knew how badly I want to wrap my hands around your neck right now, you’d shut your mouth. I’ll have you arrested for this. You are an accessory to kidnapping. Briar is a human being. You had no legal reason to retain her against her will.”
“Actually, I did. Briar turned eighteen without being injected with abstergent, and without checking into the ARC. You let your heart get in the way of your head’s work. All that time needlessly wasted on an unnecessary antidote—admit it, you were stalling.”
“Creating an antidote is as important as creating a treatment. Every respectable scientist knows that.” He squared his shoulders. “But I guess that’s why I work inside the lab and you don’t.”
“Briar is exactly where she should be.”
“She’s not staying.”
Caster drew a breath in through his nose, the air expanding his chest. “You’re too worked up over this. We both know the ARC is just a government-mandated vacation resort. Briar will be fine. Excellent, actually. Her resistance will be diagnosed, and she will receive proper treatment—intense, custom designed therapy.”
“Enough. I’ll deal with you later—so will the authorities.”
“Please let me finish.” Caster looked into Lukas’s eyes.
Something in his gaze made Lukas wonder if his brother was mentally sound.
“While Briar is receiving treatment at the ARC, you can finalize the abstergent. You already have the ideal test subject. Right here in this house.”
“Lira? You’re not making sense, you know the subject must be unlevel.” Lukas stepped around his brother, making a point to bump shoulders. “I don’t have time for your nonsense.”
“Not Lira. Gatlin.”
Lukas stopped at the doorframe, frozen in place. He couldn’t have heard his brother correctly. “What did you say?”
“Think about it. Your serum will expire in a matter of hours. If Gatlin becomes the subject, you can administer it right away. You’ve already done all of the preliminary testing on Briar. You know how the brain will react. Merely cut the dosage down to a corresponding level.”
Slowly, Lukas turned to face his brother, terrified of the lack of sanity he might perceive in his eyes. “You are insane. Gatlin is a child. His brain has a great deal of developing to do. I still can’t authenticate with one hundred percent certainty how the abstergent will affect a human—that was the point of having Briar.”
“You know enough. Believe it or not, Lukas, I have the utmost confidence in your abilities.” His eyes, more silver than gray, held Lukas’s gaze without blinking. “Please. Inject Gatlin with the abstergent.” He placed a hand on Lukas’s wrist.
“You’ve lost your mind.” He shook free of Caster’s grasp. “Keep your phone on. Expect a call from Rosen.”
Lukas walked briskly through the house, muttering to himself. What had he done? He’d had the antidote ready for weeks. Why hadn’t he given Briar the abstergent? Because he’d been afraid, that’s why.
He disarmed his car and slid behind the wheel. Briar had…something. Something others didn’t. He’d waited because, deep down, he didn’t want to be responsible for destroying that special something. Part of him wondered, if there really was a God, what would He think of Stone’s Abstergent? And what would He think of Lukas—the creator of a serum that dissolved all spiritual content from the brain? Most assuredly, the thoughts wouldn’t be positive. For some reason, the scenario bothered Lukas.
What—did he believe in God now? Was that even possible, since his Agathi were numb? That was the affect Briar had on him. She made him want to believe. Either that, or Reid was right, and his fleshcard was on the fritz. Maybe his SAP level was low, and he didn’t realize it. Maybe he truly did need his own Agathi checked out. Regardless, he would get Briar back. He couldn’t help but think that would please God—if there was one.
But how would he do it? Waltz into the ARC and take her? That was a laugh. No one got within two hundred yards of the place without proper clearance. There was no way.
But there had to be a way. There were laws against kidnapping. Technically, Briar didn’t have to enter the ARC until midnight, therefore she was kidnapped. Even if the place was as plush as a high-end day spa, what Caster had done was still kidnapping. Besides, Briar wasn’t the day spa type. That was more Reid’s thing. Briar belonged…Briar belonged…with him.
He pressed the gas pedal to the floor and reversed from Caster’s driveway.
He had to find Derby.
21
“Ouch!” Briar snatched her left hand from the male nurse.
“Uh-uh,” the man said, laying the fleshcard gun on a silver tray. “You’re not finished yet.” He again grasped her hand, placing it into the slot of a plastic machine. “Time to get your tattoo.”
Briar cringed, but felt nothing. A few seconds later, he slid her hand from the opening. The bronze profile of a roaring lion emblazoned the back of her hand directly over the fleshcard she’d received. She stared at it, unease worming through her stomach. It reminded her of the mark Granna used to speak of from the book of Revelation.
He squinted, inspecting the tattoo, and nodded. “Perfect. Cleo will show you to your room now.” He gestured to a woman with braided hair and dark eyes who stood by Briar’s chair.
“Come with me, sugar.”
Briar stood and followed Cleo. She couldn’t keep her eyes from the tattoo, staring at it even as she walked down the hallway.
“You’re liable to march right into a wall staring at that thing. Besides, it’s always a good idea to pay attention to where you’re going, so that you can find your way around later. The ARC is a big place. Seems even bigger when you’re lost. Happened to me all the time when I first started working here.”
Briar dropped her hand to her side for a few seconds before lifting it again to gaze at the tattoo.
“Here you are. Room six seventeen.” Cleo nodded toward a slice of rainbow that must’ve been the door. “Raise your tattoo to dissolve the drape.” She lifted her hand, instructing Briar to
turn the back of her hand toward the iridescent shimmer in the doorway.
A gentle surge warmed Briar’s hand as she followed Cleo’s directions. The rainbow curtain disappeared, revealing an opening to the room. She turned her hand and gasped, surprised to see the bronze lion glowing.
“Don’t be afraid,” Cleo soothed. “It’s harmless. Just the fleshcard lighting up under your skin. Lets you know it’s working. It also makes a handy flashlight when it’s dark.”
Briar tried to smile, but managed only a weak tug from one corner of her mouth.
“Come inside and meet your roommate.”
Roommate? Briar froze in place. The possibility of sharing a room hadn’t occurred to her. Then again, until a few hours ago, being at the ARC hadn’t occurred to her—nor had being on an airplane or in a hot air balloon. Things that never before occurred to her had somehow taken over her life.
The woman nudged Briar into the amethyst-hued room—the same exact shade as her new clothing.
“Briar, meet Ms. Harper Ross.” Cleo placed a hand on Briar’s shoulder, turning her to face an elderly woman in a plastic chair. “Ms. Ross, this is Briar Lee.”
“Come closer, Briar. Let me make your acquaintance.” The elderly woman stretched out a slightly trembling hand.
Briar gave the woman’s hand a gentle squeeze, loving the feel of her weathered fingers. It was like touching Granna Grace again. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Ross.”
“Call me Harper.”
She smiled, and Briar’s heart swelled. Either nostalgia had gotten the best of her, or Harper’s resemblance to Briar’s grandmother was uncanny. If it weren’t for the woman’s coffee-tinted skin, they could’ve passed for twins—or at least sisters. They even shared the same faded blue eyes.
“Nice to meet you, Harper.” Tempted to hold on forever, she gently released the woman’s hand.
Cleo walked between them, jarring Briar back to reality. She motioned to the other side of the room. “Your cot and closet are over here.” She pointed to another iridescent drape. “The toilet and sink you’ll share is in there. Hold your fleshcard to it, as you did when you entered the room. Same applies to all of the drapes in the facility. Your fleshcard will let you into any place you have clearance.”
“How will I know if I have clearance?”
“Without clearance, your fleshcard won’t light up. And the drape won’t dissolve. It will stay firmly in place.” She raised her brows, making her large eyes even larger. “I don’t suggest attempting to trick the sensor or trying to force your way through a drape.” Holding Briar’s gaze, she drew in a breath and held it a moment. “It never ends well.” She shook her head.
Harper chuckled.
“I guess that’s about it,” Cleo said. “Any questions, Briar?”
“When will I begin treatment?”
“I’m afraid I can’t answer that one. They’ll assign you a physician shortly. The doctor will give you an evaluation and go over your treatment options.” She stepped toward the door. “Anything else?” She turned her gaze to Harper. “How about you, Ms. Ross? Do you need anything?”
“You’d better narrow that question down, girl. Else I’ll be asking you to bring me a King James Bible. Large print.”
Briar’s heart lodged in her throat as Cleo glanced toward the draped doorway. “Hush, Ms. Ross. Don’t say things like that. Haven’t you learned your lesson?” Cleo whispered.
“I’ll quit learning when I’m dead.”
Cleo rolled her eyes.
Briar wished her grandmother would’ve known Harper Ross. She would’ve loved her.
“Dinner will be ready in a couple of hours. An orderly will escort you both to the dining room. After dinner, you’ll be escorted to the community showers. Have a good evening, ladies.” She held her hand to the translucent drape and stepped from the room.
Harper turned her attention to Briar. “I thought she’d never leave.” Those faded blue eyes, so much like Granna’s, locked on hers. “Are you a Christian?”
Briar swallowed, the dry click echoing through the silent room. She used to be. She’d loved the Lord more than anything and had trusted him above all else. But did she still?
“I—I hope so.”
The old woman pointed a shaky finger toward the other chair in the room. “Drag that chair over and sit down. Let me tell you what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
~*~
Briar thought she’d been scared before. Now she was terrified.
Her trip from Oklahoma to Stone Labs? That was nothing. The flight to the ARC with an exploding bladder and elbow-man breathing down her neck? A child’s carnival ride.
But this—this was the stuff sci-fi movies were made of. And horror flicks. What Harper spoke about was the worst of both rolled into one.
“This here’s another one.” Harper tapped a twisted finger against a small scar below her ear. “Called it a lymph node…something or other. ‘Bout six years since that experiment.”
Briar closed her eyes for a moment, wondering if she’d blinked for the past hour. Experiments—the kind her mother ranted about—were real? At the beginning of the conversation, she’d wondered if Harper might have a touch of dementia. But the woman’s sharp wit and even sharper memory squelched the possibility right away. The lady knew what she was talking about.
“They match the old up with the young, like they did with me and you. It works better that way. The young can help the old get around, so the orderlies don’t have to work as hard. The old help to calm down the young. Except in this case.” She offered Briar a slow wink. “Ouch!” Her hand moved just above her prominent collar bone. “See that tendon jumping around in my neck? Happens every few hours. Been that way since my first treatment—ten years ago.” She rubbed the spasm and cringed. “Hurts like a booger.”
“We have to find a way out of here,” Briar blurted. She grabbed Harper’s hand then lightened her grip, afraid of hurting her.
“There’s no way out. Best thing to do is hold onto your faith. You have to fight to keep it, but they can’t strip you of it. Lord knows they don’t show any mercy with your dignity—that’s the first thing to go.”
A fresh lump joined the others in Briar’s throat. “I’m not sure I have faith anymore. I spent a lot of time wishing it away, so that I wouldn’t have to deal with anything.”
“Maybe you should’ve spent that time building your faith up, instead. But it’s never too late to start. To keep faith, sometimes the person you have to fight is yourself.” She patted Briar’s hand and then released it. “This old girl’s had plenty of faith battles, especially in this place—many times it’s been Harper verses Harper. But God gives us the victory, Briar. Even when we are at war with ourselves. Do you understand?”
Briar nodded and wiped a hot tear trailing her face.
“A Christian needs doubt like a bald man needs a hairbrush. It’s always there, lurking on the dressing table, hoping the man will forget he doesn’t need it and pick it up. That’s why every single day I have to take the time to feel the quickening. The Holy Spirit moving inside me is what keeps me going. I rejoice when I feel the Spirit of God move within this body that’s worn and dying. Reminds me of the old days, before The Commandment, when I’d read my Bible and those old stories would get my Spirit to dancing. I’d have to shout to the rafters, no matter who was around.” Harper raised her hands high and smiled at the ceiling.
Briar squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated on the quickening. It was no use, she couldn’t feel anything. If she really tried, she thought she might sense what used to be the Holy Spirit, dried and shriveled inside her. Maybe she didn’t need Lukas’s abstergent after all. She’d starved the Spirit of God to death all on her own.
~*~
“Granna passed away when I was seven,” Briar said, finishing up a brief memoir about her grandmother. “Three days before she was scheduled to have her first SAP injection.”
“Sounds like your granny was a wonderful,
God fearing woman,” Harper said.
Briar wiped her eyes, wondering if she had any tears left. “She was. And even though I’ve just met you, you already remind me so much of her. I know you’d have been great friends.”
“I’m sorry she’s gone, but it was such a blessing she passed before her first SAP injection. Praise the Lord your granny never had to feel that venom slithering through her brain. Even after all I’ve been through, I’m still so very thankful my mind rejected that poison. And you should be, too.”
“I am.” She smiled. “If I was responsive to SAP, I’d have never met you.”
A strange sound, something like a digital wind chime, startled Briar.
“They’re here to take us to dinner.”
A short-haired orderly in the regulation black smock appeared where the drape had been. “Meal time,” she stated.
Briar helped Harper from the chair and helped position her behind her walker.
“Don’t get the wrong idea, now.” She took a step, pushing the aluminum contraption along before her. “Walkers are for invalids. This here’s no walker. It’s a four-legged cane.”
“Got it.” Briar nodded.
The orderly stood outside the doorway, face blank. She led them through the sleek hallways to the dining room.
“Here’s our spot.” Harper stopped beside a purple, rectangular shaped table and tugged at a matching chair.
The orderly stepped away as Briar moved Harper’s walker to the side and helped her sit down.
Briar glanced around at the other tables and chairs of various tint filling the large dining hall. “I take it we’re all color coded?”
Harper nodded. “We’re amethyst. Amethyst clothing, amethyst living quarters, amethyst furniture, amethyst dining tables and chairs. Everything we touch is purple.”
A black-smocked attendant wheeling a cart approached the table, handing each of them a purple cup filled with something cold to drink.
Harper chuckled. “See there? Purple glasses. Plates are purple too. So are the forks and spoons. By now, I’m so saturated, I dream in purple.”
The Commandment Page 17
