by Dale Mayer
Patiently waiting was never his gift.
Chapter 31
Beth remained quiet, knowing this waiting game was part of her test. When she heard a voice again, she thought it was Hunter. She frowned and called out, “Hunter?” But there was no answer. She shook her head, wondering just what was going on. She heard Lizzy’s voice in the background.
Remember. Remember. Remember.
But now it sounded like a broken record, as in, seriously a record player just on an endless loop. A horrible thought came to her mind. What if that’s all Beth had been hearing all this time? Was it Lizzy’s voice on a recording? Maybe Lizzy wasn’t haunting her after all. Maybe Beth was haunted sheerly by the fact that she couldn’t get Lizzy’s voice out of her mind. Maybe some of their bloody testing had gone wrong, and something had been emblazed into Beth’s brain instead of somebody else’s. She frowned at that because that would be an easy answer. She could get up from here and walk away, and she would be fine.
She looked at the bindings holding her fast and shook her head. They would never hold her. People just didn’t understand that, and, when desperation hit, it took an awful lot to keep somebody secured. Once they were secured, not so bad, but getting them there? That was a different story, especially in her case. She didn’t get held easily. And, with that revelation, she had to study her whole scenario going in.
If they could not hold her here at the compound, if that were truly the case, why was she here? Why had she been here at any point in time? It made no sense. Unless she was a willing participant in all of this. Her stomach sank, as she thought about all the pain she’d been part of, wondering if that was even possible to consider. And, of course, impossible not to consider it once it hit her brain. Yet … she had been a child. A child can’t be held responsible for this. She took a long slow deep breath and let it out, then did it again and again.
“Good,” he said. “You’re calming down.”
“I haven’t been very upset,” she murmured.
“No, but enough. We need you to get started.”
“And that would be fine,” she said. “Let’s get going.” After a moment of startled silence, she shrugged. “Obviously that’s the next step.”
“That’s true,” he said cautiously. “I just wasn’t expecting this much cooperation.”
“Well, I’m tired of it,” she snapped, “and I want this over with.”
“I get that,” he said. “Glad to hear it.”
She nodded. “Here?”
“No, we’ll go down to the lab.”
“Good enough,” she said. She lifted her wrists. “Do I need the chains?”
“You always did have the chains, so let’s keep everything the same then.”
She could tell that, once again, she’d floored him with that. “Do you expect me to fight my bonds?”
“Well, you always did.”
“Which means you had a way to keep me here.”
“Of course, but mostly by choice.”
“Mostly only afterward.”
“True,” he said cautiously. “What do you remember?”
“Nothing,” she said. “That’s why I’m here.”
“Good,” he said. A whisper of voices came behind her that she didn’t understand, but she heard someone.
A stranger approached and unlocked her bonds. He assisted her upright and then said, “Follow me.” She followed him, wondering who he was. She looked over to see Peter, the same man who had followed her to Hunter’s cabin.
“Glad you got away,” she said.
He nodded slightly. “Takes a lot to keep me down.”
“I remember.” And she did remember. He had a huge will, and sometimes she’d wondered if he was even human because of it. He looked at her steadily, and just more unsettled confusion was inside him. And that was good. If she could keep him off-balance, maybe she could get out of this alive.
She still didn’t understand anything, and maybe that was her own fault, but she was here right now, and they needed to do whatever needed to be done to get this nightmare over with. She followed as directed, and she sat where she was told to. And, when she finally sank into the seat, it felt oddly familiar. She looked around, but nothing in the actual location felt familiar. But the seat? She shifted in it and then frowned. “This is my old chair.”
“It is.”
“Good,” she said, settling back. “That’ll be easier.” And again she could sense that she’d unsettled him. She waited.
“Okay, we’ll start now.”
“Fine. What are we starting?”
“You don’t remember, do you?”
“I’ve told you that before.”
“Well, I’ve understood that you haven’t, … that you don’t remember a lot,” he said cautiously, “but I don’t understand how much you do remember.”
“Basically nothing,” she said, with a wave of her hand. “So let’s get on with it, and do whatever we need to do.”
He nodded and stepped in front of her. He looked at her closely and said, “If you don’t remember, it won’t work.”
“Well, it needs to work,” she stated.
“But you’ve tried to remember, haven’t you?”
“Didn’t work,” she said, with a nod.
“In that case,” he said, “what makes you think it’ll work now?”
“Well, I assumed you had some ability to make me remember,” she said, staring at him. “Are you saying, after all of this fuss to get me here, that you don’t?”
He hesitated, and then he said, “I do.” And, without warning, he lifted his hand, holding a handgun, and he shot her.
She cried out, as the pain racked through her shoulder.
“Remember,” he called out, his voice harsh. And he fired the gun again. This one went into her arm, and the third hit her thigh. By now she was screaming at the top of her lungs, and he was roaring, “Remember. Remember.”
Then finally she passed out. And remembered nothing.
*
Hunter heard the first shot and then the second and third, followed by the screaming. He raced to the building, with no idea what the hell was going on. It took him a while to find where she was because they had moved her, but, even as Hunter raced through the hallway, the gun went off one more time. In the distance, he heard her scream, and then it suddenly cut off to a horrible silence.
Determined, he made it through the barrier to see the guard standing there and staring in shock. A quick scan of his aura showed no psychic gifts in him. Hunter turned to look and there was Beth, tied to a chair, strapped down and bleeding all over the floor. He could hardly rein in his anger, his need to act.
Stand down, Hunter, Stefan said. This is her show. Let us give it a bit more time. She’s seeking answers and we’re definitely learning more about her own gifts.
Peter stood in front of her with a handgun, screaming at her. Hunter completely froze for a long moment. The guard remained off to the side, his arms crossed over his chest, completely ignoring the scenario.
Well, that’s one thing Hunter couldn’t do. As he raced forward to Peter, he heard her screaming back at her abuser.
“Remember what?” she roared. “Remember what? I can’t remember anything!”
“Well, it’s the only way to do this,” he said. And he lifted the handgun.
Hunter turned immediately to Beth, standing there, completely free of her restraints, blood pouring down her body, as she glared at Peter, the gun still in his hand.
“Remember,” Peter ordered her.
And Hunter saw something in the expression on her face, as the horror, everything, rolled together.
And she snapped, “Oh, I remember.” She reached up a hand, and just that movement had Peter bracing for it, as he saw the energy, a firebolt, that shot him backward.
He screamed at her, “No! Not that. Remember what happened to you.”
“I remember,” she screamed back at him.
“No,” he said, “you do
n’t. Remember Lizzy.”
She stared at him for a moment, then seemed to crumple in on herself. “I killed my sister,” she burst out, bawling.
Peter stood up on his feet, still holding the handgun as she collapsed, completely unconcerned with the injuries he’d given her. “No,” he said, “you didn’t.”
She stared at him through her tears, shaking her head. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand.”
“Your sister, Sarah, died, yes,” he said. “She died not long after you got here. You were both very little, but she was weak, and you were strong.”
“I could have looked after her,” she said, glaring at him. “You wouldn’t let me.”
“You did look after her,” he said calmly, quietly. “You looked after her as long as you could. But it was not to be.”
“It could have been. We could have had a good life.”
“No,” he said. “She wasn’t strong enough to survive.”
“Only because of you.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I know you want to believe that. I know you want to blame me,” he said. “But, if you’ll blame somebody, blame your mother who sold her.”
“Sold her,” she spat out, “to you.”
“Yes, to my boss at least,” he said, “and that was a good thing. Sarah would never have survived there anyway. I tried hard to keep her alive. She was special.”
“So special,” Beth said, shaking her head. “I still don’t understand.”
“That’s because you won’t remember,” he said.
So much frustration was in his voice that Hunter didn’t even know what to do. The guard looked at Hunter and whispered, “Don’t stop this.”
“Says you,” Hunter said in an ugly tone, “he just shot her.”
“But do you see her?” he asked. “Do you see that she’s not bothered by four bullet holes?”
And, of course, that’s the part that Hunter needed to zero in on.
“She’s stronger than anybody I’ve ever seen,” the guard said. “But she’s so very disconnected from everything.”
“Of course she is. Look at the abuse. Look at what she went through.”
“But it’s not what you think,” the guard said. “Just wait.”
Hunter realized that may be a viable answer, just that patience wasn’t his strong point, as he stepped back into the shadows and watched.
She stood up once again. “My sister was precious.”
“She was precious, and she survived for those first four years, but then she couldn’t survive anymore. No matter how much energy you poured into her, she couldn’t survive any longer.”
She shook her head. “That’s not true. You wouldn’t let me do any more.”
“Because nothing more could be done. It was killing you to help her.”
Some of what was going on here could be the truth because Hunter had heard and had seen things like that before. And, if that were the case, then it could be quite true here. Beth would have hurt herself; she would have put herself in the grave in an effort to help somebody who was dying anyway.
“I had to stop it,” Peter said.
“You didn’t have to do anything,” she stated. “She was doing fine.”
“No, she wasn’t. And that’s not what this is about.”
“No, you took my best friend, and you turned her into my worst enemy,” she roared. “You made me do things that I would never have done before.”
“That,” he said, with a nod, “is true. And, for that, I’m sorry. I thought that our research justified the means, until I realized what it did to you, and even then I couldn’t see. I wouldn’t allow myself to see. I wouldn’t let anything stop us because I saw the value in it.”
“And now?” she asked bitterly.
“Now I know I was wrong. Now I know some things have value that we don’t always understand,” he said, “and I pushed you too far, too hard.”
She stared at him in shock. “That’s almost like an apology.”
He gave her a ghostly smile. “I don’t know about that,” he said. “That would be taking it a little too far, but I definitely did not push the line of what I should have done.”
She shook her head. “Then why am I here?”
“You tell me,” he said. “You came voluntarily.”
“But you were the one hunting me.”
“Yes,” he said, “you need to remember.”
“You keep saying that. I’ve been trying to remember. I can’t. At least not what you say. I remember the years of abuse, all the testing, all those people we hurt.”
He nodded. “And again, that’s unfortunate.”
“Unfortunate?” she said, staring at him. “That’s what you call it? All those people dead?”
“They didn’t all die,” he said. “And lots of them were sick anyway. Many of them were mentally unstable.”
“And what happened to them?”
“Some had to be terminated, yes,” he said. “They were obviously very damaged and wouldn’t survive. Some of them died on their own. Some of them had to go to a hospital and have since passed away. Doing this energy work took a toll that we didn’t realize.” He said, “I wouldn’t have done it if I knew everybody would suffer so terribly.”
“Yes, you would have,” she said, staring at him. “You definitely would have. You didn’t care. It was always about your results.”
He winced. “I know. And that’s what I’m saying. That’s why you’re here. That’s why I’m trying to save you.”
She shook her head. “No. It makes no sense that you would even try.”
“Yes,” he said. “I’m making this right, but you’re the last one for me to deal with. And you’re the hardest,” he said. “I want to go to my grave, knowing that I at least tried to fix what I did wrong.”
She stared at him. “You’re dying?”
“I am,” he hesitated.
She nodded. “So you want me to pour life into you?” She shook her head. “I can’t do that.”
“You don’t know that,” he said. “If we can help you to fix yourself,” he said, “you can. I know you can because I saw firsthand everything that you were capable of doing.”
“And you want me to do it for you?” She laughed. “Too bad you spent all those years abusing me, forcing me to hurt all those people.”
“You weren’t hurting them,” he said. “We were running experiments.”
“And they were being hurt through the experiments,” she said, glaring at him. “And you wouldn’t let it stop. You wouldn’t let me stop. I had to do it. You didn’t give me any other choice.”
“You were very powerful,” he murmured. “You were by far the best of everyone. We couldn’t let you stop.”
“Couldn’t let me stop?” she said, with a headshake. “Every person I touched left a little bit of their tortured soul with me to deal with. And you couldn’t let me stop? Not even to keep me sane and whole?”
“No,” he said, “and then everything blew up.”
“And that’s the part I don’t get,” she said.
“That’s because you won’t remember,” he said in frustration.
“Did you ever think that maybe I can’t remember because something in me is damaged to the point that it can’t heal, that it can’t be fixed?”
He took several long deep breaths and said, “Yes, I considered it, but then I thought about you and all the things that you’ve done in your life, and it’s quite possible that you could fix this. You may be quite capable of doing what needs to be done to fix yourself. Even if you can’t help me.”
She stared at him. “I think you’re putting too much on me,” she said. “There’s a reason all of that is buried.”
“Yes,” he said, “because it’s unpleasant, because you don’t want to listen, because you don’t want to believe. But that doesn’t change the value of it.”
She stared at him. “What is it that I’ll find?” And she turned, looking around. “Whe
re is Lizzy in your horror chamber here?”
“Maybe that’s what’s missing,” he said, staring at her. “Why don’t you want to talk to Lizzy?”
“Why would I want to?” she said, staring at him. “Lizzy betrayed me. She hurt me.”
“She didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said. “Again, you can blame me if you want.”
She spun to look at him. “What do you mean, if I want?”
He took another slow breath and said, “She was following my orders.”
At that, she glared at him. “Of course she was. Everybody followed your orders. We had no choice.”
“No,” he said. “Some people had a choice. Some people didn’t. You had less choice than others.”
She stared at him. “You’re still not making any sense.”
“First, remember. Then heal yourself.”
“And if I can’t remember?”
“Then this is what your life is,” he said. “You’ll always be wondering, always be chased, always be hunted.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t stop Lizzy,” he roared. “Only you can.”
Chapter 32
Beth stared at him in shock. Disbelief. Horror. She’d shut off all sensations to her wounds, shutting down in emergency mode. She could only keep it up for a little while. “That can’t be,” she said, and then she shook her head. “Did Lizzy go rogue?”
“That’s one word for it,” he said. “You have to stop her.”
“And how do you expect me to do that?” she said bitterly. “Lizzy is …” And then she stopped, raising her hands in frustration. “Lizzy is Lizzy.”
“Exactly,” he said, “and we need you to stop her.” He looked at her, at the guard, and then back at her again. “You do want to stop her, don’t you?”
“Well, she has to be stopped,” she said. “She’s dangerous.”
“She’s out of control, and she’s very dangerous,” he said.
