“She cannot leave without us having time to adequately analyze her potential for breeding.” Dr. Tardale walked further into the room, around the bed, so he was in my line of sight. His eyes were hard, and I knew further argument would be futile.
"I will consent to more blood." I hung my head. I didn't want another needle in my arm but fighting wouldn't help our cause.
"I don't want her in unnecessary pain. What's to say it won't get contaminated again?" Mason wasn’t backing down as easily as I was.
"I will have Dr. Morton run it himself."
I touched Mason’s back, hoping he understood we couldn’t fight this. We couldn’t leave without Quinn and Bailey.
"This is the last time." Mason put his larger hand over mine that was balled in a fist on the bed.
"I understand." Dr. Tardale left the room closing the door behind him.
"You don't have to go through this." Mason starred at the door long after it closed.
"I can handle it. There are worse things." Like what they had been doing to Bailey. She was too young to be subjected to such horrible experiences. We’d promised her a better life, and I would do anything to honor my word. In here we were nothing more than lab rats, and she deserved so much more than that.
"I know." He turned to me. “I know all too well.”
We fell into silence and my mind went to the future. How was I going to get to Quinn? How was I going to get them out? And where would we go after? There were too many variables, too many ways things could go wrong even if I had a plan. Which I didn't. The first step was getting through more blood work. In the scheme of things, that was the easy part.
Mason
I watched through the window after being thrown out again by Dr. Morton. He’d suggested, in not so subtle terms, I take the time to read over a report. The numbers on the sheet meant nothing to me; however, a name did. Buried in the numbers was the name Denver had assumed—Nevers. I searched the words for more—searching for a pattern that would explain things, and finally one appeared. All the years since leaving the system faded away, and I suddenly remembered repeating numbers over and over while a man in a white lab coat observed. They had been games back then—or rather tests. At least that’s what I’d been told.
“I’ll be taking that.” I jumped as the paper was pulled from my hands.
I turned, preparing to fight, but the adrenaline faded when I realized it was Denver.
He smiled in the calm way of his that was maddening. “Has Maverick remembered you yet?”
“No. I doubt he will.” There had been no ounce of recollection, and to be fair I didn’t remember him all that well myself.
“Oh he will. Well, he’ll remember more about himself and who he is really is anyway. The brainwashing isn’t permanent. Eventually everyone remembers.” He caught my eye, in a way that made his comment seem more personal.
“How can you be so sure?” I glanced down the empty hallway. It appeared we were alone, but appearances can often be deceiving.
“Because being sure is the only option. Otherwise we’re done for.” Denver swung his arms. “Life is shaped by the way you view it.”
“You are hanging all of our hopes on him?” I gestured to the window. Maverick was speaking to Kayla. Had I missed the blood draw? I was wracked with guilt that I had agreed to allow it in the first place. But as Kayla would remind me if she could, it wasn’t my decision to make. I didn’t have the power to “allow” or “disallow” anything regarding her even if I wanted to.
“Not all, but he’s part of the plan. And he’s come through already.” Denver held up the paper.
I looked up and all around again searching for the cameras I knew how to be there. “Should we be talking this freely?”
“I’ve taken care of all that.” Denver’s eyes twinkled.
“How? And if that’s the case, tell me what’s up with your name?” He claimed we weren’t being recorded, but it seemed reckless to come out and use words like fake.
“You all are so focused on the name. It’s just a name. There are bigger things out there.” He looked up at the white ceiling dotted ever so often by florescent light fixtures.
“It’s important because your name is the only reason we are in here.” I wasn’t sure where I’d be without Denver’s help, and it wasn’t a good feeling. I was used to relying on myself. I barely knew Denver—and I was starting to realize there was even more to him than I originally assumed. The unknown would have been one thing if it were only my well-being on the line, but Kayla’s safety was hanging in the balance too.
“But we’re in here. The how doesn’t matter.” He shuffled his boots on the white floor. Everything in Central was white, and the monochrome color scheme was disorienting.
"And what does this mean?" I tapped the paper in his hand.
"You know what it means.” He narrowed his eyes. “You haven’t forgotten everything.”
"It means we can't get them out." Some of the numbers represented people—women and maybe some children. The other numbers represented their condition, their loss of muscle and even mobility.
"It means we will come back." His expression darkened, and I knew with complete certainty I never wanted to be on Denver’s bad side.
"Come back? Are you crazy?"
Denver had an uncanny ability to get what he wanted, but sneaking into Central a second time? Breaking out women and children too weak to move? That stretched even the wildest possibilities.
"Yes.” His calm nod seemed more appropriate as a response to being asked if he prefers whiskey or scotch rather than trying to accomplish the impossible. “But one step at a time."
"Speaking of steps, what do I do?" I couldn’t continue to sit back and wait. It went against every grain of my being.
"You distract Tardale." He looked back down at the paper in his hands.
"And how am I going to do that?” I wasn’t going to refuse. I needed to contribute somehow. I had to get Kayla out of there.
"You ran one of the most powerful clubs in the city. I think you can come up with a way to distract a bureaucrat." He folded the paper several times.
“I can’t leave Kayla.” I peered through the window again. They were still talking. She seemed fine, but it was impossible to know.
“If you want any chance of getting Kayla out of here, you’re going to do this.” He put the paper into his pocket.
“I’m not sure I like you calling the shots.” I kept watching through the window, but nothing seemed to change.
“Yet you like thinking you have a shot at getting Kayla out of here, right?”
“I never said I didn’t want you calling them, just that I didn’t like it.”
He laughed. “Then go talk to Tardale.”
“And what will you be doing?”
“Cementing a way out for us.” He grinned. In the beginning his smiles were alarming, but I’d come to understand he wasn’t making light of the situation. It was just who he was and how he handled stress.
“This is going to work?”
“If everyone does their job, I can get us out. Now getting back in… that’s going to be another story.”
“Let’s focus on getting out first.” I repeated his own words back. I couldn’t focus on what’s to come until we figured out the present.
“Wise choice.” He patted my arm.
“You sure we can trust Morton?” I nodded toward the window.
“Didn’t we just have this conversation?” Denver tapped a finger against his temple.
“I never know what’s going to come out of your mouth, so for all I know you’ve changed your mind already.”
“I won’t be changing my mind on this. We’re going to have to trust him whether we want to or not.”
There was no time to argue, and I knew any attempt to get more details from Denver would be fruitless. “Where am I going to find Tardale?”
“In his private office I would presume.” Denny glanced at his watch again. The
re were no numbers, only a diamond and the two hands.
“He’s still here in his office?” Yet we were speaking freely? Denver must have lost his mind.
Denver’s brow furrowed. “Where else would he be?”
“If he’s here, shouldn’t we be more careful?” I looked back in at Kayla and then down the hall.
“I already told you, I took care of the surveillance.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s not listening.” The sooner we got out of Central, the better. I was constantly on edge inside these cinder block walls.
“Stop worrying and go talk to him.”
“I will.” I glanced back inside the room again. Dr. Morton was still in the same spot beside her bed.
“I mean it. This isn’t going to work without your help.” Denver’s voice sounded impatient for the first time.
“Is that your way of trying to make me feel important even though I’m not?”
“That’s for you to decide.” He turned and headed down the hall.
“Wait,” I called after him. “Where is his office?”
He stopped and turned back. “Turn right, then the second left, and right, and the next left, last door on the left.”
“You have it memorized already?”
“One of these days you’re going to stop being surprised by everything little thing I do.”
“Oh am I? You act like you know me a whole lot better than you do.”
He shrugged. “You’re not a hard person to read.”
“You are,” I shot back.
“I know I am.” He turned away and disappeared down the hall.
I looked into the room again. Kayla seemed okay, but that didn’t mean I felt good about leaving her. She meant more to me than I ever thought possible. I stopped caring about people a long time ago, that is if I ever really cared. Sure, I tried to protect the girls of the club as best I could, but that was just being human. This was different; I was different. I dropped the curtain.
She was stuck in her room anyway, and she would likely be in more danger with Tardale around. Maybe distracting him would keep her safer in the short term too. I used that logic to tear myself away from the window.
I followed Denver’s instructions: right, then second left, then right and left, I walked down the final hallway stopped at the last room on the left. I still hadn’t come up with anything to say, but I assumed I’d come up with something. I knocked on the door.
“Come in,” A voice bellowed from inside.
I pushed open the door.
Tardale sat behind a large wooden desk. This one looked more like him than the office where we’d initially met him. He glanced up from a pile of file folders. “Oh, it’s you. You were the last person I was expecting.”
“Why is that?”
“I didn’t think you would leave her side.”
“I didn’t want to.” I started with honesty, but I quickly departed. “But I needed to speak with you.”
He raised an eyebrow as if surprised by my words but then gestured to a chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat.”
I sat down uneasily.
“What is it that you have to say?” He ran a hand through his thinning brown hair.
“I need to know something.” I hoped my experience improvising in tough situations at the club would help me now.
“What do you need to know?” Annoyance dripped from his voice.
I used his annoyance to motivate myself into action. What right did he have to be annoyed at me? He was the one holding Kayla and her family prisoner. “Are you actually making any progress here?’
“Progress?” He raised an eyebrow.
“You know, in saving humanity.”
“You grew up in the system.” There is no question his voice.
“Yes I did. Same as so many others.”
“Then you should know things aren’t always as simple as they seem on the surface.”
“When are things ever simple?”
He smiled ever so slightly. “Never.”
“Exactly.” Never. Nevers. What was the true story behind that name? Why did they think Denver was someone important? Was he?
“Is that all?” Tardale rested his chin on his fist. “I have work to attend to.”
“You never answered my question.”
“I did.”
“You said it wasn’t simple. That doesn’t answer my question.” It was my turn to be annoyed. Mixed with my anger, it wasn’t a pretty picture.
“It’s the answer I’m going to give you.”
“I need more than that.” At least I needed to keep him talking longer.
“And who are you to make demands of me?”
“Someone who may be of help.” That felt like the right thing to say.
“How would you help me?” He pushed away the folders, showing interest in what I had to say for the first time.
“I ran Club Sray. I took it from a nothing club and made it one of the biggest in the city.”
“So?” His lips pressed into a firm line.
“So, I have skills.”
“There is no question you know how to do a few things. What are you suggesting?”
What was I suggesting? I was winging this conversation like nothing before. "Before I can say more, I need to know more." I glanced around his crowded office, and a realization dawned on me. I'd been in this office before. But the last time I’d been inside, it wasn’t Tardale behind the desk. How had I forgotten being inside this part of Central before? Had the memories faded so quickly? Or was it something more sinister. Was Morton not the only one whose mind was influenced?
The man who had used this office before was older. He sat stooped over, and when he walked he used a cane.
"And you think I am curious enough to share information with you? To toss aside the confidential nature of our work?” Tardale’s words sounded far away as I found myself lost in remembering the last time I was in this office.
“There is nothing I can do, Mason. My hands are tied.” The old doctor’s voice was low and hoarse.
“Of course there is something you can do. There is always something.”
He lit a cigar and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t know how to say this any nicer. You know I’ve always liked you, but that doesn’t change the fact that you lack the scientific aptitude to work here.”
“How do you know? No one has even given me a chance.” I rolled up the sleeves of my white tunic.
“There’s no need to give chances anymore. The testing says it all.” He blew a puff of smoke right at me.
I resisted the automatic response to wave away the smoke. It would make me seem weak. Despite what he said, I knew he was testing me. My entire life had been a series of tests. “I’m smart.”
“I never said you weren’t, but not in the sciences.”
“That’s not true. You’re lying. You could make me better at science. You can do anything here.”
“Not anything.” He rocked back in his chair. The seat made a groaning sound, complaining about his weight.
“It’s because I couldn’t do it…”
He chewed on the end of the cigar. “No one is blaming you.”
“Except you are. You are throwing me out because of it.”
“It takes a certain predisposition to work here.” He gestured to himself, as if he were the picture of a perfect Central scientist.
“You mean you can’t have a conscience.”
“Mason, be careful what you say.” His eyes darkened in a way that should have frightened me, but it didn’t. I had faced much worse.
“I am always careful.”
“You did nothing wrong.”
“I couldn’t—” I remembered the smaller boy – his hands covering his face as he cowered, waiting.
“Don’t say anymore.”
“Why not? Do you want to pretend it didn’t happen?” I couldn’t pretend. I couldn’t get the image of the boy out of my head. Nor could I get the image of my
buddy doing what I couldn’t do. Snuffing out the life of the innocent. I shook away the despicable image. I’d done nothing to stop it.
“No.” He shook his head. “I know what happens.”
“Yet you are okay with it?” I may have stayed silent, but I had no power. Not yet. I needed to get this job. I needed the chance to make things right. It didn’t have to be this way.
“If you are so outraged with what happens here, why would you want the job?”
“Because I don’t know what else to do.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the full truth.
“It’s okay to admit to being afraid.”
“No, it’s not fear.” Not fear of the outside. It was fear of living with myself after all was said and done.
“It is. And you will find your way.”
“Find my way?” I laughed dryly. “Out there.” I gestured to the wall behind the desk.
“Yes. Maybe you’ll find happiness. You never know.”
“Happiness doesn’t exist.” I believed it had once, but I knew better now. It didn’t exist, not in my world.
“Not much anymore.”
The memory faded away. “Mason?” Dr. Tardale snapped.
“Sorry. Dr. Tardale. Where were we?”
“We were nowhere. You were continuing to waste my time.”
“I knew your father.” The connection came immediately, as if a new wealth of information was now before me.
“My father?” His eyes narrowed.
“Yes.” I refused to back pedal now. I at least needed to see his reaction.
“And what would that matter to me?” He feigned disinterest, but I’d seen the change in his eyes.
“You knew your father. That’s rare.”
“Rare, not impossible.”
I wondered how much more time Denver required. I needed to get out of that office and away from Tardale and those memories that were starting to flood back. “I’m not sure I can help you after all.”
“Why the change of heart?”
“Because I can tell you aren’t interested.” I rose to my feet determined to hide my confusion. I needed to find Kayla. She’d make everything better. She’d chase the shadows away.
The Corded Saga Page 25
