A Cure for Madness

by Jodi McIsaac

  “I can come with you to talk to them if you’d like,” he said. He grabbed his tablet off the counter and flicked through the screens. “I should be able to find out what room he’s in.”

  I waited, still reveling in the relief of being Gaspereau-free.

  Kenneth frowned. “Are you sure he’s here? I don’t see his name.”

  “I assumed so,” I said with a scowl. “I mean, where else would he be? This is the only hospital in town.”

  “There’s no record of him being here,” Kenneth said. “Not since he was discharged into your custody.”

  “Maybe they just haven’t processed him yet?”

  He scowled. “Unlikely, but I suppose it’s possible in this chaos.”

  “Maybe . . . he’s somewhere else?” Haltingly, I told Kenneth the truth about the armed men, and how they had dragged my brother away.

  A muscle under his eye twitched. “I know this is an emergency, but there are still rules. Wes doesn’t represent a threat. They should never have taken him without your consent.”

  “I didn’t exactly stand in their way.” When he didn’t respond, I said, “I’m going to go down to the front desk; maybe they have more up-to-date information.”

  “Okay. I’ll call over to the psych side and check things out there,” Kenneth said, but he was scowling. “Dr. Hansen didn’t give you any indication of what they were planning to do with your brother?”

  “No. I just . . . trusted him,” I said, knowing how lame that sounded, how flimsy.

  “Text me if you find him.” Kenneth fastened a mask on his face and left.

  I ran down the stairs. “Hi,” I said to the woman at the information desk. “Wes Campbell. What room is he in?”

  “Does he have Gaspereau? Because if so, you can’t see him,” she said.

  “No. He came in with Dr. Hansen for some tests.”

  “Who?”

  “Dr. Hansen from the CDC. He was brought here by ambulance yesterday morning.”

  She checked the computer. “I’m sorry, it looks like Wes was discharged two days ago.”

  I huffed at her. “Yes, but he was readmitted. Where is Dr. Hansen? He’ll know where Wes is.”

  She scowled as she returned her glance to the screen. “We don’t have a Dr. Hansen on staff here,” she said after a moment.

  “I told you, he’s with the CDC,” I said, my voice rising. “Where else would he be?”

  “I’m not in charge of the CDC,” the woman said waspishly.

  “I need to see my brother,” I said, leaning over the desk.

  She rolled her chair back. “Ma’am, you need to calm down.”

  A soldier who had been stationed by the front doors walked toward us.

  “Okay, okay, I’m calm,” I said, raising my hands. “I just have to make a phone call.” I went down a hallway and fished Dr. Hansen’s card out of my purse. My fingers tightened around my phone as I listened to it ring.

  “This is Stuart Hansen,” he answered after two rings.

  “It’s Clare Campbell,” I said. “I want to know where my brother is.”

  “Ah yes, Clare, thank you for calling. Wes is doing just fine.”

  “I didn’t ask if he was fine; I want to know where he is. I’m at the hospital and they told me he’s not here.”

  “Well, I’m afraid I can’t disclose his exact location at this time.”

  My stomach turned. “What are you talking about? I’m his sister! I have a right to know!”

  “I understand your concern, Clare. But it’s a national security issue at this point. A lot is riding on the results of these tests. I’m just trying to keep your brother safe.”

  “Safe from what?”

  “Clare, I promise I will let you know as soon as I have any information we can share. Remember what we talked about. If I can prove my theory, we’ll be one step closer to ending this crisis.”

  “I don’t care about your theory, Doctor. I care about my brother. You don’t have his consent, or mine, to do any additional tests on him. I want you to let him go immediately.”

  There was silence on the other end. Then he spoke. “Please understand, I am not your enemy. I am doing whatever I can to prevent the worst pandemic the world has ever seen. Under the law, your cooperation is appreciated but not required. I believe Wes has a role to play in ending this disease. If I’m right, you’ll soon be thanking me. You and everyone else.”

  Then he hung up.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Dammit!” I made another call, this time to Rob. “It’s Clare.”

  “Did you get your results?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  “Thank God. I was so—”

  “I’m really worried about Wes,” I blurted out. I filled him in on my change of heart and my search for Wes. “They won’t tell me where he is, but I know they’re not supposed to do anything to him without my consent, right? This Hansen guy is saying it’s ‘national security’ or some bullshit. He claims I don’t have a choice.”

  On the other end, my uncle cursed loudly.

  “Can’t you do something?” I asked. “What about your friend, the police chief?”

  His voice was strained when he answered. “I don’t think Jim can help. Governor Preston has declared a state of emergency. The CDC is calling the shots, and the National Guard is here to back them up. They’re in charge now, not the police.”

  A chill ran through my body. “They didn’t say anything about this at the announcement.”

  “I imagine they’re downplaying it. People are panicked enough.”

  “Well, screw that. Who do I talk to at the army? I’ll go to the governor’s office and tell them what happened. They’ll have to let him go.”

  “Hang on a minute. I don’t want you getting in trouble. I told you, it’s a state of emergency. They can pretty much do whatever they want—the regular rules have gone out the window. That means they can detain anyone they want, as long as they have a good reason. There’s nothing voluntary about it.”

  “That’s bullshit. There’s got to be some way around it.”

  “Just wait it out for a bit longer,” Rob said. “I’ll see what else I can find out from Jim. You don’t want to mess with these people. They take this kind of thing very seriously.”

  “So do I,” I said as I hung up. I slumped against the concrete wall, thinking about where they might have taken Wes. There were a few medical labs in town; maybe he was in one of those. Or maybe they had a secret laboratory in the basement of a building somewhere. Where would be the most practical place to take someone if you needed to run medical tests on them? Of course, perhaps I was in the right place after all; he could be hidden somewhere in this very hospital. But I would have bet a lot of money that my description was being made known to all the hospital security guards by now if that was the case. Maybe they’d taken him to Atlanta in a military plane. He could be anywhere. I should never have let this happen.

  My phone buzzed with a text from Kenneth. Any luck?

  No. You?

  Sorry, no. Looks like he’s not here.

  Where are you?

  In my office. Room 142.

  I left the relative calm of the stairwell and made my way to Kenneth’s office. He was sitting at his desk, his head in his hands.

  I sat in the chair opposite his. “How are you feeling?” I asked, though the answer was evident.

  “Exhausted,” he muttered. “And . . . overwhelmed. You wouldn’t believe what it’s been like here over the past couple of weeks. I mean, nothing ever happens. And then we had a patient commit suicide, and now this whole nightmare . . .”

  “Wait—you had a patient commit suicide?”

  “Yeah. Over in the psych ward. Hung himself.”

  My conversation with Wes replayed itself in my mind. “What was the patient’s name?”

  Kenneth frowned slightly. “I don’t remember off the top of my head. Why?”

  “Was it Winston Ling?”

>   His frown deepened. “Yes, that sounds right. Did you know him?”

  I stood up, still trying to remember what exactly Wes had said. “No, but my brother did.”

  “Really? I’m sorry to hear that.”

  A crazy idea started to germinate in my mind. “Wes said this Ling guy was a scientist. He told Wes he used to work in a secret government lab.”

  Kenneth leaned back in his chair and surveyed me with suspicion. “Okay, but remember that they were both in the psych ward . . .”

  “We’re looking for Wes, right? What if the secret government lab this guy told Wes about is real, and that’s where they’ve taken him?”

  “Clare, I really doubt that.”

  “You have any better ideas?” I pulled my phone out and googled Dr. Winston Ling. “Ha! See?” I waved the display at him.

  “See what?”

  “First result. Dr. Winston Ling is—was—a researcher at the Maine Experimental Farm.”

  “The what?”

  “I don’t know, but it sounds like it could be a lab. And it’s just outside of town. I’m going to go check it out.”

  “You’re not serious.”

  “Wes was telling the truth about Ling. Maybe the rest isn’t so far off either.”

  “It’s a hell of a connection to make.”

  “What if it’s not? If you wanted to hide someone, and you knew of a secret lab nearby, why wouldn’t you use it?”

  Kenneth put his head back into his hands. “Clare . . . I know you want to find your brother, but why don’t you just call the doctor from the CDC and ask where he is?”

  “I did,” I snapped. “And he told me it’s a matter of national security. He wouldn’t tell me jack shit.”

  He looked honestly surprised by my answer. “Really?”

  “Yes, really! That’s why I think something suspicious is going on. In a state of emergency, the government can do whatever it wants without being held accountable. So they could have him locked up somewhere, and . . . and . . . they could be doing who knows what to him against his will. I’m not going to let that happen.”

  I had wasted enough time arguing. I turned on my heel and headed back down the corridor. After a second, Kenneth came running after me. “Wait! Where are you going?”

  “I told you. To the lab.”

  “Clare, this is ridiculous. He won’t be there.”

  “I won’t know until I look.”

  “And you think they’ll let you in? If it really is some secret government facility, they don’t just let members of the public waltz into those places.”

  I stopped by the front doors and looked him in the eye. “Then I won’t waltz.”

  I turned to go, but he grabbed my arm.

  “You always drove me a little crazy, you know that, right?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  I shrugged and kept walking, but inside I was more than a little relieved. I had no idea what I’d find there.

  Once we got in the car, he asked, “Where is this place?”

  “Rural Road Five.”

  “That’s way out there.”

  “Yep.”

  “I need to call my mother, let her know I’ll be late.” He looked tense as he dialed. I listened to him speak in rapid Mandarin. I couldn’t understand a word, but he sounded apologetic. Then he switched to English.

  “Hi, baby,” he said, his tone soft. “Did you have a good night? Uh-huh. No, Daddy worked all night. I haven’t even slept yet! I know. Yes, I’ll be home today. Soon, I hope. I’m just helping my friend Clare with something. Yes, that’s her. Okay, I will. Really? What did Nai Nai tell you? Don’t be scared, baby. No, it’s going to be okay. I’ll be home soon, I promise. I love you. Bye.” He hung up. “Maisie says hi.”

  I smiled. “Hi back. It’s great your mom can help look after her.”

  “God yes. I don’t know what I’d do without her. Find a new line of work, probably.”

  “Is she scared about Gaspereau?”

  “Yes.” His jaw tightened. “It’s more my mother; she’s terrified. Maisie picks up on that. I’ve asked Mom to keep the TV off while Maisie’s around, but she wants to know what’s going on. And it doesn’t help that I’ve hardly been home this week.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know you should be with her.”

  “It’s okay. She understands that I’m trying to help people. I think.”

  “She seems like a wonderful girl.”

  “She is. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I never knew the mere existence of another person could make me so happy.”

  My chest tightened. “That’s great.”

  “So . . . what’s your plan?” Kenneth asked as we turned onto a country road riddled with potholes. I slowed down; according to my GPS, we were almost there.

  “Well, if he’s in there, we’ll find whoever is in charge and demand they release him.”

  “You said yourself they can do whatever they want. What if they still refuse?”

  “Then I’ll think of something else,” I snapped.

  His eyes tightened.

  “I’m sorry. I know you’re just trying to help. I just . . . don’t have much of a plan. I’ll wing it, I guess.” I squeezed his hand, trying to convey my sincerity. “Thank you for coming with me.” He didn’t speak, but covered my hand with his own for a brief moment before pulling away.

  We reached the countryside without incident. The houses and farms were few and far between. Green fields—potatoes, most likely—spread out on either side of the road. “It must be just up here . . .” I said. “There.” I pointed to a building set a couple hundred feet off the road and double-checked the GPS.

  “It looks like an old factory or something,” Kenneth said. It was a rectangular building with faded brown siding. Huge exhaust pipes and fans littered the roof. I turned into the driveway and stopped in front of a small white sign that read “Maine Experimental Farm.”

  “Well, I guess this is the right place,” Kenneth said. “But it looks vacant.”

  I stepped out. The slam of the car door echoed in the air around us. So much for sneaking in.

  A set of glass doors barred the entrance. They were locked, so I pressed my face to the glass and peered inside. It looked like your standard office reception room. On a desk in the corner were a small calendar and a bottle of hand sanitizer. A few plastic chairs were lined up against the wall.

  I banged on one of the doors with my fist. “Hello? Is anyone here?”

  Kenneth gave me a bemused look, then walked around to the other side of the building. The area around it was rocky and overgrown with weeds, and I had to watch my footing as I walked along the exterior and stretched up onto my tiptoes to peer in the windows.

  Then there was a soft click behind me.

  “And just what do you think you’re doing?” a man’s voice growled.

  I jumped and turned, my hands halfway up in the air. A security guard in a navy blue rent-a-cop uniform was standing three yards away from me. He was pointing a gun at my face.

  “I’m just . . . looking . . . for someone,” I stammered.

  “No one’s supposed to be here,” he said, jabbing his gun in my direction.

  “Please put that down,” I said, my voice a little more steady. “I’m just looking for my brother.”

  A strange, vacant look passed over the man’s face. “I had a brother too, once.”

  “Please, put the gun down.”

  He looked as if he was about to comply, but just then Kenneth came running around the corner. “Clare? I thought I heard—” He stopped short. “What’s going on? Who are you?”

  “I’m the one in charge of this place,” the man growled, his whole body rigid, the gun still directed at me.

  Kenneth moved slowly toward me. “Listen, please put the gun down. We were just looking around. We’ll be on our way.”

  “I have a higher calling!” th
e man yelled, and Kenneth stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowed. He and I exchanged glances.

  “Gaspereau,” Kenneth whispered, and I nodded.

  “What’s that you’re saying about me?” the security guard asked.

  “I’m a doctor,” Kenneth said loudly and slowly. “You’re sick. We have to get you to the hospital.”

  The man started to shake. “I know what happens at the hospital. I’m not going anywhere!”

  “What is this place?” I asked him. “What’s inside there? Is my brother here?”

  “No one is here. They all left. No one here but us ghosts.” His eyes darted around the yard. The finger on the trigger was twitching.

  Kenneth took a step forward. The man bellowed, “Get away from me!” and swung the gun wildly in his direction. His back was now to me. One false move, and Kenneth would be dead. My heart pounded in my ears.

  Kenneth put his hands in the air. “No one is going to hurt you.”

  “I’ll shoot you! I will!” As if to prove his point, the man pointed his gun at the sky and fired off a shot.

  I grabbed one of the large rocks at my feet and ran at the guard while he still had the gun pointed away from Kenneth. I smashed the rock into the back of his head with as much force as I could muster.

  It was enough. He fell heavily to the ground, and the gun scattered across the dirt.

  Kenneth rushed toward the guard.

  “Stop!” I shouted. “What are you doing? Don’t touch him!”

  “You might have killed him!”

  “He was going to kill us both! And if you touch him, you’re as good as dead. Just . . . leave him there. We’ll call an ambulance after we leave.”

  “After we leave? Clare, there’s no one here. We need to get out of here right now.”

  “Not until I’m sure Wes isn’t inside,” I said grimly.

  “And how are you going to get in?” Kenneth asked. Rather than answer him, I picked up another large rock from the ground and hurled it at the door. The glass shattered, and a piercing alarm split the air.

  “What are you doing?” he yelled. He tried to grab me, but I twisted away and reached into the broken glass door to open it from the inside.

  “I want to get their attention!” I yelled over the noise. “If someone is in here, they’ll come out.” I half expected to see Dr. Hansen come bowling around the corner, but no one did. I ran through the lobby and down the hall. “Wes? Are you here?”