The Pain Colony

by Shanon Hunt

  Brad offered his award-winning smile, riling Austin even further. “That’s right. Mia here was the first to receive the gene therapy. The psychological effect was so dramatic that she fasted for three days as an offering of gratitude to the Father. All our pioneers responded beautifully to the injections, which they had been fostered to believe was a spiritual purification. After they lost their sensitivity to pain, they became our most important assets as champions of the Colony and the purification process, believers from the depths of their souls. They brought in new recruits, but more importantly, they became instrumental in keeping our early inductees from giving up and wanting to leave.”

  He clicked again to an image that had always made Austin particularly proud. An aerial view taken from a drone. Over seven hundred colonists had gathered and waved up at the sky from below. “Our recruiting has evolved. We now bring in healthy subjects through our pain experimentation program, roughly fifty to a hundred new recruits each season. We no longer have to beat the streets. They come straight to us through a clever social media campaign that Mia developed. We’re visible to potential recruits and under the radar of the authorities. It’s like hiding in plain sight. And we’re growing so fast, we’re nearly out of space.”

  Hammond walked over and stood next to Brad, putting an arm around his shoulder, as though they were a team. Austin took a step forward to join them but halted with Hammond’s next assertion.

  “Of course, the Colony will no longer be using the pain elixir. Austin’s field cohort proved it’s simply not safe. Brad and I have been discussing how we can repurpose the Colony with different genetic experiments, but Brad has now convinced me that the pain rituals must continue. They’re the foundation of inductee indoctrination. How did you describe it, Brad? A domino effect? The new recruits are cultivated by the previous classes, so even though the new recruits don’t have chronic pain, Brad has had great success with his methodology.”

  Austin felt sucker-punched. He stood stiffly at the back of the room, trying to unscramble his thoughts beneath blind fury. Brad and Hammond had been working together behind his back. They’d purposely excluded him from what was happening in his own damn Colony. He might have expected this of Hammond, but Brad had been his partner for years. How could Brad stab him right between the shoulder blades?

  He yearned to speak up, to reestablish his role in this meeting as Hammond’s partner, but he was completely in the dark. All he could do was nod and smile. All he wanted to do was to slam Hammond to the ground and choke him to death.

  “Tomorrow, Brad will go into more details about the recruiting program and the various phases of progression to purification, and we’ll start setting up think-tank groups for implementing Brad’s practices at the other sites.” Hammond’s expression sobered. “But this summit today is more than a big love fest. We’re gathered here to discuss something much more critical.”

  Austin’s arms hung stiffly at his sides. His hands had balled into fists.

  “Relocation. The Colony needs to be moved out of Black Canyon City, out of the country. We’re going to need the assistance and influence of each and every one of you to accomplish this move. And we don’t have a lot of time.”

  Jesus Fucking Christ. Hammond had never even hinted about a move. Austin glowered at Brad. Brad offered an apologetic shrug, but Austin saw the smirk on the edges of his pretty-boy face. The bastard.

  “… recent risks have now made this location untenable. First was the poorly designed field cohort, which unfortunately involved the DEA …”

  Austin’s phone vibrated, and he fished it out of his pocket.

  “ … increased encounters with the motorsports groups at the security gates …”

  That number was the Fixer. It had to be trouble. Jesus, maybe they’d lost Allison en route. Or killed her. He was loathe to miss what Hammond was proposing by stepping out to take the call, but whatever it was, he was positive he didn’t want it escalated to Hammond.

  Hammond was pointing to a map of Mexico. “We’ve procured twenty acres in the Chihuahuan Desert across the border, and we’ve built …”

  Austin sidestepped through the door and pulled it shut behind him, then accepted the call.

  “Dr. Harris. Ms. Stevens has arrived. She’s at the center main gate.”

  Goddammit, a day sooner than expected. His luck couldn’t be worse. He gazed longingly at the conference room door.

  “Shit.” He desperately wanted to go back into the meeting.

  “Sir, my operatives are requesting you take custody of Ms. Stevens.”

  He let out an exasperated breath. “I’m on my way.” He’d have to debrief with Hammond and Brad later.

  Chapter 72

  Allison awoke at the sound of gravel under the tires of the SUV. They’d turned onto a dirt road, which meant they must be very close to the destination. She was right.

  “We’ll be arriving soon. Please drink some more water.”

  She pulled herself up, waited for the dizziness to pass, and sucked down the last of her nearly empty bottle. Her first attempt at disobeying Luke’s instructions had resulted in an experience she preferred not to repeat. Her throat was still scratchy from being force-fed water through a plastic tube. Our operation is to deliver you in good health, and your behavior is compromising that.

  She rested her head against the window. There was nothing to see except sagebrush and tall cacti, the kind that looked like they were giving you the finger. Get the hell out of our perfect, unadulterated desert. She shielded her eyes from the setting sun, which for some reason seemed brighter than she remembered. Through squinted eyes, she saw nothing but empty dirt road ahead. She turned to look behind the truck for any sign of life, but she couldn’t make out anything through the dust from their tires. Perhaps she’d be killed and buried out here. The thought didn’t alarm her. In fact, she might welcome the closure. Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth.

  They jostled along the long dirt road for another half an hour or so, and the sun had completely fallen behind the hills when they finally approached a stately wrought-iron fence. The driver pulled up to the gate, which opened with a screeching buzz that could be heard even through the sealed windows.

  Allison sat up straighter as they crunched down a red rock gravel road toward a desert oasis. It was such a contrast to the dusty brown terrain they’d just driven through that she almost wondered if it was a mirage. This had to be one of those desert spas she’d seen in travel magazines—sunrise yoga and vegan meals.

  The truck stopped, and her escorts got out simultaneously. She waited, as she always did, until Luke opened her door and held out his hand. She took it, refusing to make eye contact, and allowed herself to be assisted out of the car, careful to not put weight on her broken foot. Luke put an arm under hers to hold her up. A woman stepped onto the entry porch with a wheelchair. The rustic pine wood sign next to the door read Vitapura Wellness Center. It sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

  Luke released his support on her, and she steadied herself. “Ms. Stevens, it’s been a pleasure serving you,” he said with complete sincerity. He reached out for a handshake.

  “Fuck you,” she whispered half-heartedly.

  Without another word, he retreated to the truck.

  A voice came from just behind her. “Al.”

  She twisted abruptly, and her injured foot twisted beneath her. She stumbled, but strong arms grabbed her before she could fall. She didn’t get a look at his face, but she knew whose arms were around her. She knew his smell and the feel of his chest against her.

  In that instant, the emotional storm that had been brewing inside her for weeks released in a tsunami of tears. Her weak body shuddered with her sobs, and her breath caught with each inhalation.

  “I, I th-thought …”

  “Shh,” Austin soothed. “It’s okay now, baby. I’ve got you. You’re all good. You’re going to be fine. Shh. It’s okay.”

  He
held her for a long five minutes, stroking her hair, telling her it was all going to be okay, before gently guiding her into the wheelchair. She buried her head in her hands as he began to push the chair, over the small footbridge and into the building.

  Chapter 73

  Malloy looked out over the saguaro-speckled hills as Garcia drove north on Interstate 17. Garcia didn’t enjoy small talk, which he was grateful for, so they usually drove in silence unless they had something relevant to the case to discuss. There really wasn’t much to talk about.

  Well, maybe one thing.

  “Jessie didn’t know Tyler was dead.” His gaze remained out the window, but he could see Garcia turn in the reflection.

  “Get outta here.”

  “She changed her name and moved. No one tried to find her.” He knew what Garcia would ask next, so he offered the answer. “I couldn’t tell her.” He was too embarrassed and ashamed of his behavior to tell Garcia he’d been so enraged by her words—Tell him the goddamn joke’s on him!—that he’d wanted to slap her. He’d choked up and walked out of the room, leaving Darcy to show her out. It was immature.

  Garcia didn’t reply, and that meant he didn’t approve. Well, Malloy had no intention of getting into the details of the conversation. He wouldn’t relive that whole heinous scene.

  Garcia exited onto a side road in the booming metropolis of Black Canyon City, population 5,575. If there were over five thousand people here, Malloy had no idea where they might be hiding. It was practically a ghost town. Garcia pulled into the parking lot of the Canyon Café, which appeared to be the only coffee shop in town, and turned off the engine. The parking lot was full, but they were the only street-legal vehicle in the lot. Every other vehicle was an off-road type: side-by-side UTVs, ATVs, and dirt bikes. Evidently, Black Canyon City was a hot spot for motorsports.

  The cowbell on the door clanked as they stepped inside the restaurant, and all eyes fell on them. The room quieted. Malloy glanced around at the thirty or so young faces staring back. There wasn’t a single adult in the whole restaurant.

  “Who ordered the pork?” someone called out, eliciting laughter from the rest of them.

  Garcia smirked. He loved this kind of thing.

  Malloy shrugged: Go ahead, then.

  Garcia’s voice boomed, immediately silencing the room. “Listen up, you spoiled little cocksuckers. Unless you want to spend the rest of the day here with me while I tear up your fake drivers’ licenses and call your mommies, I suggest you get back to your chicken nuggets and applesauce and mind your own fucking business.”

  They all turned away and went back to their breakfasts. It would do.

  “Can I help you?” The waitress was grinning at Garcia’s gentlemanly words of advice.

  “Two cups of coffee,” Malloy said, sliding onto the barstool.

  She pulled two cups from under the counter while simultaneously grabbing the coffee pot and filling both cups in one fluid motion, like she’d been doing it her whole life. “Something to eat?”

  “No, thanks.”

  The kids must have decided their breakfast was now ruined, and they all left at once like a herd of cattle squeezing through the doorway. He looked at the waitress, concerned.

  “Don’t worry, I make them all prepay, a flat ten bucks each before they get so much as a glass of water.” She winked. “My daddy didn’t raise a fool.”

  He chuckled and sipped his coffee. It tasted like dirt, but he didn’t complain.

  “What brings you officers out here?” She clearly wasn’t used to serving customers outside of locals and off-road enthusiasts.

  He was grateful for the lead-in. “We’re investigating the death of a young man, who we learned was a guest at the Vitapura Wellness Center shortly before his death. Do you know much about the center?”

  “It’s an awfully nice place, that’s for sure. Not somewhere I could ever afford to stay.”

  “What about the people who run the place? What are they like?”

  “Wouldn’t know. Never met any of them.” She excused herself and picked up a bus tub. “They pretty much keep to themselves out there. All their employees live onsite. Great big privacy walls.” She talked as she cleaned tables. “Trucks and vans constantly moving supplies in and out, but no one’s ever stopped in.”

  “This is the only road to the center, isn’t it?” Garcia asked.

  “That’s right.” She hoisted the tub onto her hip, grabbed five water glasses with the fingers of her free hand, and hustled everything into the back room. She returned a moment later, wiping her hands on the dish towel draped from her belt. “Another cup?”

  Malloy accepted, stalling for a few more minutes of conversation. “Do you know why they’re so private?”

  She shook her head. “Beats me. Funny thing is when they first came to the town with their proposal, what, eight or ten years ago, we were thrilled. Figured they’d bring jobs for folks around here and patrons for the businesses. But they’re completely self-sufficient. They don’t use a dime of town resources. They pay their property taxes, sure, but otherwise they’re powered by their own solar, served by their own wells and septic. They’ve never hired a single local, not even to wash dishes. It’s like they’re not even there.”

  Malloy and Garcia exchanged a look.

  “Well, we appreciate the insight. Thank you very much.” Malloy pulled out a ten and laid it on the counter.

  “Sure thing. Best o’ luck.” She picked up their cups as they walked to the door. “Fingers crossed that the town develops a bit after they downsize.”

  Malloy turned back. “Downsize?”

  “Yeah, heard they made an offer to sell half their property back to BLM. Guess not too many people can afford top-shelf R & R after all.”

  Chapter 74

  Layla couldn’t stop grinning as Sister Mia escorted her into the gardens. The sun was barely rising over the desert hills, and despite the chilled air, she couldn’t imagine a more perfect start to her day of purification. As she stepped into the circle, she counted fifteen others, all pures, seated in heel-sit position atop white rose petals that had been scattered on the ground. They smiled warmly at her, but her gaze fixed on Brother James, who spoke first.

  “Beautiful girl, today is your day. Today, you join us and become pure.”

  They were the most beautiful words she had ever heard.

  “Come sit with us in the circle of purity.” He gestured for her to take a seat at the top of the circle. Sister Mia took her place next to her. “This is a big day for you, an important step in your development. You know how important it is, don’t you?”

  She nodded, still unable to wipe the smile from her face.

  “Everyone around this circle has been given a calling within the Colony after their purification. Your calling, similarly, will be your very own. It won’t be the same calling as Brother Sayid’s or Sister Mia’s. Your calling is yours alone, and it will be decided and bestowed upon you by the Father, shared only between the two of you. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Layla croaked. She cleared her voice. She would have something special between just herself and the Father. Her eyes teared up, and she swallowed trying to dry up. She didn’t want to appear overly emotional.

  “You’ll also receive a gift from the Father. Your gift of purification will help you fulfill your calling—and I have no doubt you’ll be successful, Layla.” His eyes glimmered in the morning sun, and she saw something more than his usual warmth as he held her gaze. A sparkle, like a secret look that belonged only to the two of them.

  But he turned from her and addressed the group. “Colleagues, thank you for joining us today for the purification of Layla. Let’s hold hands to complete the circle of purity, and I’ll ask you to focus your meditation today on Layla’s successful transition. Please keep her in your mind’s eye as we chant.”

  He looked back at her with that radiant smile that she dreamed about every night. “Layla, please join us in the chant whe
n you’re ready.”

  He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “With pain comes perfection. With perfection comes purification. This is the Father’s will for me. As a pure, I am responsible for the purification of the Colony and the propagation of purity into the world. This is the Father’s will for me.”

  He inhaled and exhaled to the count of four, then began the chant again. The group joined him. Layla joined the third time. Sister Mia gripped her left hand, and Brother Leo gripped her right hand. She could feel the energy of the fifteen pures pulsing through her like an electrical current. Her body relaxed, and the world around her completely disappeared.

  And even as she fought it and tried to stay in the moment, to hold onto her chant and relish the attention and energy of the circle, her mind’s eye opened to her.

  ***

  “D-Daddy?” He’s reclining in his hospital bed again. I can feel my facial muscles begin to tighten and my eyes tear up. I want to be brave. I do. I want to be brave.

  “You listen to me, Butch,” Daddy says firmly. “Stop that. Stop that right now.”

  I sniff hard and wipe my eyes on my sleeve.

  “You listen to me.” He’s talking with such seriousness in his voice that it scares me. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, and the smartest, and the kindest. But mostly the strongest. Do you know what I mean by that?”

  I don’t really, so I guess by flexing my tiny bicep.

  “I mean in here.” He taps his head and then taps his chest with his finger. “On the inside. And that’s important. You have to be strong on the inside when you lose someone you love.”

  “No, Daddy!” Tears well up again.

  “Stop it. Show me how strong you are and push those tears away. Push them away with your mind. Do it right now.”