The Pain Colony

by Shanon Hunt

  She marched over to Carol’s desk. “Do you still have Austin’s calendar?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Could you do me a favor and see if Austin had a meeting on his calendar for the twenty-fourth?”

  “Well, his calendar still has a ton of meetings, even now that he’s—”

  Allison cringed. The echo of the two gunshots still rang in her head.

  Carol’s face was a wrinkled mask of discomfort. “Are you looking for one in particular?”

  “The Pain Institute. It should be a dinner.”

  “Oh, with Jonathan? I believe that’s been canceled. Jonathan’s traveling abroad this entire month. Doctors Without Borders, I think, or one of those volunteer things.” Carol turned back to her computer.

  “Wait, you know him? Jonathan Chambers?” Allison asked, surprised.

  “Of course. Austin has a one-on-one call with him every week, ever since the outreach program started. They’re both so crazy busy, Elaine and I are always trying to find a good time to reschedule.” Carol shook her head as if the task of rescheduling a meeting was truly unbearable.

  “What’s the outreach program?”

  Carol took her hands off her keyboard. “Oh yeah, you weren’t here yet. It was a disaster from the beginning. All the time and effort poor Austin put into it, but he loved it like a baby. Jonathan was his partner, though I know Elaine did all the work, that poor woman. Even with her regular day job. She works crazy hours for that man.”

  Carol had a tangential way of communicating that Allison found truly annoying. It was like talking to her grandmother.

  “Elaine?”

  “Jonathan’s assistant. I just can’t imagine what she has to go through each day. I mean, the guy’s mean as the devil. Elaine says that any time she makes even the tiniest mistake, he screams and makes her cry. One time, he threw a pen at her, jabbed her in the arm. I told her that’s a hostile work environment and she really should quit—I mean, no one should have to deal with that kind of treatment. But she never will. She’s too scared, I think. You know, like those abused wives? It’s like he has her handcuffed. Gosh, I’m so glad Austin wasn’t that way.”

  Carol’s shoulders slumped at the thought of Austin.

  “So Austin meets with Jonathan Chambers every week for this outreach program?”

  “Oh, no. The outreach clinics closed down years ago. They were a ton of work, and I don’t think they had much success. Austin was sad when they went under. He disappeared for weeks at a time. If you ask me, he went into a bit of a depression. He’d worked his tail off on those sites, and watching them fail pretty much killed him.”

  “He disappeared? To where?” Allison leaned forward.

  “He was traveling a lot. But Quandary was small back then, and we didn’t have much going on, so no one complained.” Carol laughed. “I remember one day he came into the office after a long stint away, and he’d grown a thick beard. We thought he must have been on some spiritual journey in Tibet or something. It made him look fifty years old, but everyone was too afraid to tell him to shave it.”

  Now that was weird. Austin despised facial hair. But she didn’t want to encourage a campfire night of storytelling, so she reined Carol back in. “So what are Austin and Jonathan discussing every week now?”

  “Beats me. Austin was always very secretive about it, and Elaine says they were doing some research thing together. Jonathan keeps all his notes and files in a special cabinet in his office. Doesn’t even ask Elaine to file them, which is strange since she does everything else.” Carol’s face turned suspicious. “I personally think they’ve come up with some miracle cure that the world isn’t ready for yet. You know how brilliant and leading edge Austin is. He’s always ahead of his time.”

  The work I’m doing is more important than Quandary. It’s bigger than you and me.

  Allison’s stomach fluttered. “Does anyone else participate in the weekly calls?”

  “I think so. I’ve heard Austin’s voice through the walls, and I think there’s a large team of people. But I’m only responsible for Austin’s and Jonathan’s calendars. I guess the others just join if they can. Who knows?”

  “Huh.” More secrets to digest. More research. “Well, thanks, Carol. You’ve been really helpful. I appreciate it.”

  Carol looked surprised at the compliment, and Allison wondered when she’d last uttered the words thank you to Carol or any of the staff, for that matter.

  Back at her desk, it took only a moment to find a local NJ.com article: “Venture Capitalist, Local Physician and Biotech CEO Band Together to Confront Rising Opioid Crisis.”

  Austin Harris of Quandary Therapeutics and Jonathan Chambers of the Pain Institute have received financial backing from venture capitalist Madeline Barnett to set up an outpatient clinic to provide opioid free-pain treatments at little or no cost to patients in economically disadvantaged areas. The clinic will educate teenagers and young adults and provide alternative therapies designed to prevent opioid addiction, which is on the rise, particularly in urban areas.

  Newark, New Jersey, will be the site of the first such outreach program. Drs. Chambers and Harris are in process of establishing similar outreach programs across the country with the continued support of Barnett. Early locations will include Chicago, Las Vegas and Austin, Texas.

  “We’re providing a much-needed service to these communities,” Chambers said in a formal statement. “There are many ways to manage pain, such as acupuncture, hypnosis and guided imagery, that most people aren’t aware of. These approaches have proven successful over decades but only now seem to be embraced by millennials and younger folks who’ve grown up in overmedicated families. We’re even looking into adding more natural THC-based therapies for pain management in states where marijuana is legal.”

  Allison enlarged the picture of Austin and Dr. Chambers with Madeline Barnett. She radiated confidence and elegance. The kind of woman who is accustomed to being photographed. The three of them stood casually in front of a small shop on Market Street, right next to a bodega, under a sign that read “Newark Pain Clinic. Most Services Free.” They all smiled broadly for the camera, and Austin had an arm around Barnett’s shoulder.

  Allison felt a fiery pang of jealousy. The article was dated more than five years ago. Austin had never once mentioned the clinics to her—or Dr. Chambers or Madeline Barnett, for that matter.

  She typed “Madeline Barnett” into the search bar and scrolled down the page.

  “Phoenix’s Priciest Home Purchased by Billionaire Venture Capitalist Madeline Barnett for $37.5 Million.”

  It was a blow to her gut. She doubled over, clutching her torso. Phoenix. Austin went to Phoenix to see her. God, she’d come to believe that Austin had lied and used her, but she hadn’t really felt it until that moment. She closed her eyes and bargained with herself: She could cry tonight with her vodka and tonic, but right now she needed to think.

  Austin’s threat from the night before echoed: Don’t get all detective-like. He was hiding something, something big. Forget all about the LXR portfolio, he’d said. The LXR portfolio of pain genes. Just pretend it never existed.

  Shut up! Austin had never raised his voice to her before. She’d heard the rage in those words, and something else too. Desperation, maybe?

  Two deafening gunshots.

  She shrank back into her chair.

  In the wake of losing Austin, she had crumbled. She loved him so deeply that she couldn’t bear the thought of not realizing their happily ever after. But last week, everything had changed. His betrayal, the threatening call trying to intimidate her, to scare her into the corner like an obedient little girl … It enraged her. And if Austin was dead—

  She wouldn’t think about that.

  She stared at the picture on her screen as her mind raced. They looked so chummy together, and yet she’d never even heard of these relationships. Were Chambers and Barnett in on Austin’s secret venture?

  You’re my
scapegoat.

  She was in on it, too, apparently. She just didn’t know what it was.

  And the FBI was watching her. They believed she was helping Austin. They were probably building a case against her right now. If she was going to prove herself innocent, she’d have to find out what Austin had been doing.

  She tapped her pencil nervously. Jonathan Chambers. He was a physician working with patients. He kept his files at his office, but they were too private for his assistant to file.

  Her resolve strengthened, and finally she smiled as a plan formed in her mind.

  Chapter 34

  Dr. Jeannette looked tired. She had dark, baggy circles under her eyes, and Layla didn’t remember noticing all the deep wrinkles across her forehead. She wondered how old Dr. Jeannette was. Fifty? Sixty? Dr. Jeannette continued sipping tea and silently appraising her, as if trying to read her mind.

  Finally Dr. Jeannette spoke. “Have some tea, Layla.”

  “No, thank you. I don’t actually like green tea.” Layla focused on her posture, fighting the impulse to hunch forward and look down.

  Dr. Jeannette set her teacup down, as if Layla’s unpleasant attitude had turned it suddenly bitter. “I’ve seen a change in you lately, my dear.” Her tone was flat, not her usual singsong voice.

  “Really? How so?” Layla didn’t care that she sounded flippant.

  “You seem to be more interested in challenging me than in respecting and appreciating the guidance I provide to you. It’s as if you no longer value my help in your preparation for purification.”

  Dr. Jeannette was observant. Layla expected that from a therapist, but she was surprised by her candor. She didn’t reply.

  “All these months, I’ve been on your side, trying to help you with your memories. Encouraging you and supporting you in all your activities. I’ve helped you grow here at the Colony. Frankly, I don’t really understand how I’ve become the enemy.”

  He’s already chosen you, Layla.

  Layla lifted her chin. “My confidence has grown a lot here at the Colony. I’ve been here a long time now, and perhaps I don’t need as much support as I did before.”

  Dr. Jeannette didn’t respond.

  “Of course, I’m so grateful for all you’ve done for me.” She meant it, although she knew it sounded haughty.

  “Interesting, because that’s not the vibe I’m getting from you.”

  She felt too jittery to sit still, and she couldn’t hold Dr. Jeannette’s penetrating stare any longer. She stood up and strolled around the room, eyeing the various wall hangings and decorative vases. She picked up a statuette of a woman warrior holding a bow and arrow atop a globe that resembled the earth.

  “What additional things do you think I need to do in order to be called for purification?” she asked. “What do you believe I’m still missing?”

  “I’ve discussed this at great length with you. You know the answer.”

  “My poisoned life memories, right?”

  “Yes. A poisoned life cannot be—”

  “—purified until it is fully understood. As an impure. I must acknowledge, accept, and despise the poison inside of me so that I can be free of it.”

  “That’s right.” Dr. Jeannette smiled smugly.

  “Okay. But what I don’t understand is why do I have to remember everything about my poisoned life? I’ve already acknowledged, accepted, and despised the poison. You know I have. Don’t you think that makes me ready for purification? Not everyone can remember everything about their poisoned lives. Even Nicole admits she can’t remember her teachers’ names from school, and yet she received the calling.”

  Dr. Jeannette stood up, and Layla could tell she’d crossed the line. The doctor picked up both teacups and took them to her small coffee bar, setting them down with a clatter. Layla flinched.

  “First of all, Layla, you’re not Nicole. You’re on a different path than Nicole, as is every inductee at the Colony. Second, you may think you’re special here at the Colony, but I assure you that you’re not. You would do yourself a great service by finding your humility, and you’ll be sorry if you make me your adversary.”

  In Layla’s hands, the warrior woman stood tall and strong. Her well-defined muscles and stoic facial expression inspired envy. Did a warrior woman feel humility? She set the statuette back on the table. She was already chosen by the Father, and she didn’t need Dr. Jeannette’s support.

  “I can see that our session today is not going to be productive,” Dr. Jeannette said. “I’d like you to leave.”

  Layla shrugged and walked to the door. “If I can be perfectly honest, I feel like you don’t want me to be called for purification. I don’t understand how I’ve become your enemy.”

  And Layla stalked out of the office.

  Chapter 35

  The Pain Institute resembled an expensive private school more than a doctor’s office. The two-story building’s seventeenth-century windows and doors gave it a historical look, all the way down to the pillars on either side of the broad front porch. Although Allison had studied her destination with the help of the miracle of Google Images and one very helpful YouTube video, a local news interview with Dr. Chambers that had taken place in his luxurious office, she’d still been intimidated from the moment she’d climbed the three steps to the imposing double front doors. Cameras in each corner of the porch peered down upon her.

  She knew her plan was a long shot. A very long shot. But whatever Austin had been doing, whatever this venture of his had been, must lie somewhere in Dr. Chambers’s file cabinet—the one that his assistant, Elaine, wasn’t allowed to touch. If Allison could just find out what was going on, she could tell the FBI, and—

  But she was lying to herself. This wasn’t about proving her innocence. The truth was her curiosity about Austin’s pain program and his relationships with Dr. Chambers and that woman had mushroomed into a full-blown obsession. The idea that he had kept this secret from her, had worked with some practically invisible consultant, was driving her mad. What could he possibly have been hiding? And what did he need a scapegoat for?

  Besides, she wasn’t really doing anything illegal. If there was something going on that involved Quandary, she should know about it, right? She was only looking for documents that she had a right to review. Just a quick look.

  She glanced at her watch. 4:50 p.m. Time to go.

  She stepped into the waiting room of the Pain Institute, relieved to see that there were no patients waiting to be seen. Dr. Chambers’s PA would be finishing up or already gone for the day.

  She walked over to the receptionist with as much confidence as she could muster. “Hi, I just need to pick something up from Elaine.”

  The receptionist looked at her warily. Allison drummed her nervous fingers against her leg.

  “One second, let me see if she’s still here. Your name?”

  “Allison. With Quandary Therapeutics.” She stepped away and took a seat in a fancy leather console.

  A few minutes later, a heavyset woman in her late fifties stepped into the waiting room.

  “Uh, Allison?” She was timid, clearly not used to dealing with the public.

  “Hi, Elaine.” Allison offered her hand.

  Elaine seemed confused by the gesture, then returned a slightly sweaty hand for a limp handshake. Poor woman. She seemed fragile.

  “Um, what can I do for you?” Elaine asked.

  “Oh, sorry, I thought you were expecting me.” Allison laughed uncomfortably in an effort to appear taciturn. “I’m just here to pick up the folder from Jonathan. I’m so sorry that I didn’t come sooner, but it’s been crazy lately, with Austin being unavailable.”

  Elaine looked at her with utter bewilderment. “Um, I don’t know what folder you’re talking about.”

  Allison drew her eyebrows together. “The folder. You know, from Jonathan? Oh my god, please tell me you have it. The board is going to be furious if you don’t.”

  Elaine’s eyes widened wit
h fear, and Allison felt a twinge of regret. As impatient as she was with people, she wasn’t accustomed to forcibly upsetting them.

  “Um, okay. Can you describe it?”

  “It’s either a folder or a manila envelope. It should be addressed to Quandary? Maybe? Or to Austin?”

  “Dr. Chambers didn’t give me an envelope for Quandary,” Elaine said, but Allison could see the fear in her eyes. She was questioning herself.

  “Maybe it’s in his office. Maybe he just forgot to give it to you?”

  “Um, okay, I guess I can take a look.”

  Allison followed her uninvited. “God, it’s been so long since I’ve been here, I forgot how nice it was. I wish our offices were as nice as yours. It must be so great to work here. Plus you have a Starbucks right next door! You must spend a fortune in coffee.” Her small talk was meant to distract Elaine from telling her to wait up front.

  “Um, well, I don’t really drink coffee …” Elaine’s voice trailed off as she opened her second desk drawer and fished out the key to Dr. Chambers’s office from a coffee cup with the Pain Institute logo.

  “Should I wait here?” Allison gave her best innocent face.

  “Sure, I’ll be right back. Hopefully it’ll be on his desk.”

  Allison felt guilty again. This woman would fret about the envelope until her boss returned to work.

  She waited less than a minute before she casually followed Elaine into Dr. Chambers’s office.

  “Let me help.”

  As she helped Elaine unstack and restack folders on his desk, she spotted a two-drawer lateral file cabinet, the same high-quality cherrywood as the rest of the office furniture, tucked discreetly in a corner of the room.

  “I don’t see anything.” Elaine’s voice rang of closure, a thanks for stopping by.

  Time to raise the stakes.

  “Oh, Jesus,” Allison moaned, pulling her fists to her mouth. “This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.”