The Pain Colony

by Shanon Hunt

  She gaped. How did Brad know about that party?

  “And just think,” Mia said, “you can be with Austin now, living here in this beautiful oasis. Just like you’ve always wanted, right?”

  Brad’s face darkened, but he nodded. “That’s right.”

  Allison desperately needed some time to collect her thoughts. Austin had planned this from the start. Had he really loved her? Had his angry call and the gunshots been just part of the plan? God, how badly she wanted to believe it. Could it be true?

  “But you’ll have plenty of time to discuss this with Austin and make up your mind. For now, let’s continue our tour. Mia has to get back to work, and I have so much more to show you.” Brad moved behind her and wheeled her back onto the path.

  “Bye, Allison. I can’t wait for you to join us. We’ll be like sisters!”

  She chuckled. It was way over the top. But she already liked Mia.

  Brad continued the tour, pointing out various buildings, describing the day-to-day activities of new recruits and how the inductees sacrificed and progressed toward purification. But she was only half listening. Her mind danced over what she now understood: Austin had planned that she be here with him all along. He’d selected her from the start. She was an integral part of this venture. I’ve been building this for years, planning every tiny detail, including you. She had completely misinterpreted his message.

  Brad stopped pushing and stepped in front of her. He knelt down on one knee. “I know this is probably overwhelming, but I hope you realize that everything we’ve built—everything we’re doing here—is noble. Our colonists are happier and healthier than they’ve ever been. Our science is sound and will change the course of history one day. And our culture, which I know seems unconventional, is the foundation that makes us extraordinary. Just look around at the beauty and love and happiness here, and tell me you still don’t get it.”

  His bright blue eyes pleaded with her. He was waiting for an answer.

  She couldn’t argue that the Colony was idyllic. And Austin had built this. They could be together here. They could be a family.

  Her eyes met Brad’s, and she almost felt lost in them. He pressed his palms together at his chest, a pleading gesture.

  “I get it.” The corners of her mouth turned up. “Can we go find Austin now?”

  “Yes. Yes, indeed.” He took a victory lap around her chair.

  Chapter 82

  Barnett, who must have realized that Malloy was losing interest, linked arms with Garcia and continued the tour, pointing out various buildings and guest suites. Malloy was relieved to have a few minutes to collect his thoughts.

  She’d said physicians referred patients to the center, but Tyler hadn’t been referred that way. He’d been recruited by a few people in a van. It could have been some sort of outreach program, but it seemed peculiar that a fantastic place like this would need to take to the streets to find patients. And how come she hadn’t mentioned a field team out recruiting?

  The hostess at the restaurant where Tyler had worked in Prescott said that several people had talked to the recruiters but dismissed the sales pitch and walked away. Malloy surveyed the pool as they sauntered past. A gray-haired man huddled under a waterfall, relaxing as the water beat down on his upper back. At the other end, three Jacuzzis remained empty, as did the cushy oversized chairs beneath the umbrellas. Why would anyone walk away from a free stay here? Because the recruiters weren’t telling them about the resort. Even Jessie had implied that Tyler didn’t know where he was. Why the secrecy?

  The opioid story didn’t line up, either. The waitress said Tyler had been promised a cure of some kind to remove the poison from him. He would be able to start his life over. They said they cured someone with brain cancer. It was an awfully strange sales pitch for a drug-free pain management research program.

  Tyler must have expected to be cured of HIV, so when he arrived and learned that he wouldn’t be given even a single drug, he’d decided to leave. He knew no amount of hypnosis or sensory deprivation would reduce his viral counts. He’d expected to be cured of his poison. Dr. Fitzgerald and that wack job Dr. Meyers had both said Tyler wanted opioids, but Malloy was certain he’d really wanted HIV treatment. Were they lying? And if so, why?

  Malloy hated unanswered questions, but he knew he couldn’t dig in without setting off alarms. And without the support of the bureau, his hands were tied.

  “Well, this is the end of the line,” Barnett said.

  No shit. Malloy had to struggle to keep the relief off his face.

  “What do you think, Danny Boy? Would you like to come and spend a few months with us?”

  Garcia smirked. “Will the research grant cover my costs?”

  Malloy scowled. Danny Boy was Barnett’s new best friend. He had to admire her sales skills. He turned away from their mutual admiration and let his gaze travel along the excessively tall walls enclosing the wellness center. There was a small unmarked gate at the western end, opposite the main gate. It appeared to have a key card scanner, and two cameras on either side of the gate kept watch over the entry.

  “Where does that lead?” He gestured casually toward the gate as they turned back toward the administration building.

  “Back there is the engine that runs this gorgeous place. Because we’re one hundred percent self-sustaining, that’s our staff housing and facilities. We also have vegetable and fruit gardens and a large solar array.”

  He was reminded of the comment from the waitress at the coffee shop earlier that morning. “We understand you’ll be downsizing.”

  She frowned. “I’m afraid so. We’re getting quite a bit of rudeness and negative press from the off-road motorsports organizations. You know, those ATVs? They’ve been harassing our guests and staff. We’ve been negotiating with BLM for some time now, and we’ve reached an agreement to sell some of our land back if they’ll enforce our privacy. I don’t like those things. It’s all just noise pollution, if you ask me.” She stuck out her tongue in disgust.

  Those little punks in the coffee shop. Yeah, he could understand the problem.

  They arrived at the administration building.

  “I’m afraid I really have to get back to my schedule today, but I hope your visit has been helpful for your investigation. I am truly sorry to hear about Tyler’s death. Let’s collect your things up front, and I’ll show you out.”

  He and Garcia waited in the reception area for Barnett to retrieve the copy of Tyler’s chart. Following protocol, they didn’t speak about their observations. There would be plenty of time to debrief on the hour-long drive back to Phoenix.

  Malloy pulled his vibrating phone from his pocket. Cramer. It was the third time he’d called in the last hour. He dropped it back into his shirt pocket. He’d call him back from the car.

  Garcia pulled out his pack of cigarettes, clearly yearning to light one. God, it had barely been a couple hours since his last cigarette.

  “Reception, Brittany speaking.” The perky young girl behind the desk spoke into her handset. “Of course, Dr. Chambers. Just one moment.”

  Malloy glanced at Garcia to see if he’d caught the name. Garcia gave a barely perceptible nod. Dr. Chambers, renowned pain physician—and one of the names blurted out by Allison Stevens as collaborating with Austin Harris. Malloy had too many years on the job to believe this was just coincidence.

  Barnett stepped out.

  “Ms. Barnett,” Brittany said, “Dr. Chambers is on the line.”

  Barnett glanced at Malloy and Garcia, then turned back to Brittany. “Please tell him I’ll be with him in just a moment.”

  Was that a nervous smile?

  She strode over. “Okay, here you are. It looks like Jeannette has provided you with his full chart as well as, let’s see here, oh, the neurologist back in Phoenix. Right. Here you are.”

  She was babbling. It was such a change in her smooth speech pattern that Malloy was instantly alert. “I’m sorry for eavesdropping, b
ut is that Dr. Jonathan Chambers on the phone? Do you know him?”

  “Jonathan? Of course. He’s been a referring physician to the center for years. Do you know him? He’s really a genius in the field of pain management. Many of our practices here were originally his ideas. But he’s based on the East Coast, so we don’t see much of him.”

  He tilted his head slightly. “Do you happen to know a man by the name of Austin Harris?”

  She drew back. “Austin Harris? Of Quandary, the genetics biotech? I’ve seen him on the news. He’s a fugitive, right? Insider trading or something?”

  Malloy nodded.

  “I’ve never met him personally. Why do you ask?”

  He ignored her question. “How about Allison Stevens?”

  “I don’t think so.” She shifted her eyes to Garcia.

  There it was. She was hiding something. He’d been watching her body language and communication style carefully since they’d arrived. She carried herself with supreme confidence. Eye contact was her power play, the tool she used to dominate a verbal interchange. Until just now, she hadn’t broken eye contact at a single question he’d asked her.

  Until Allison Stevens. She knew Stevens. He was sure of it.

  “It was truly a pleasure to meet you both.” She threw a flirty smile to Garcia. “And if you’re ever interested in a brief stay with us, please call me. We’ll give you the friends and family discount.”

  Malloy pulled out his business card. “Thank you very much for your time and for the tour. If you happen to think of anything else that might help us, please call me.”

  Garcia had a cigarette lit before they were off the front porch. Malloy refrained from looking around. Barnett would be watching them, and he wanted her to believe their interest in the Vitapura Wellness Center was over.

  He moved upwind of Garcia as they walked to the truck.

  “Well, that was a fun,” Garcia said. “Do you want to stop by that pie place on the way out? Sign said ‘Best Pies on Earth.’”

  “We’re missing something here.”

  “Nah, you’re just creeped out by the place. You hate this pseudo-science shit.”

  He was right about that. Malloy couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding he’d had since the moment he’d seen those sensory deprivation tanks. But this wasn’t about how much he hated the wellness center.

  “She was lying about Allison Stevens. I think she knows her. And I’ll bet she also knows Austin Harris.”

  Garcia dropped his cigarette on the ground and stamped it out. “You ready?”

  Malloy walked around the truck and sat in the passenger seat. “I want to look around. Didn’t we see a service road a little way back?”

  Garcia looked over to see how serious he was. He sighed. “I think you’re wasting good pie-eating time, but you’re the boss.”

  Chapter 83

  “We call this building the gateway,” Brad said as he rolled Allison into the lobby. She looked around the small, single-room building and realized it was little more than a bank of elevators: three elevators along one wall and a long bench against the opposite wall, next to a single unisex bathroom. The room was artfully decorated with native desert plants and cacti. The tiny building was only one story tall.

  “Did you run out of budget before you could finish the skyscraper?” she teased.

  “Who knew elevators would be so expensive?”

  She laughed. God, it felt so good to laugh.

  “We have several underground buildings,” he said. “This whole area was dug out for copper mines a hundred years ago, and we rebuilt the shafts to provide access between the buildings. We can’t have satellite pictures revealing the true size of the Colony.”

  He parked her near the bench. “Let me just go see where Austin is and make sure he’s available to take you through the trainee school. I’ll be right back.”

  He held a keycard against the call button and took the elevator down.

  She may have been in love with Austin, but Brad sure was handsome. She felt comfortable around him. Maybe they could be a good team.

  She stood up from her wheelchair. Her legs were stiff, and she needed to stretch. She stepped down onto her broken foot. Just a dull ache. She wondered how long it would be before she could jog on it. She limped back and forth between the elevators as though pacing, testing her foot to see how much weight she could bear. It felt good to move around.

  Why hadn’t Brad taken her down the elevator with him? What was down there? Was there more than one floor?

  The outer gateway door opened and, to her surprise, an older couple entered. She hadn’t seen anyone over the age of twenty-five since they’d left the wellness center.

  “No, it’s not a will,” the woman was explaining as she pulled out her keycard. “It’s a trust. And I told him I don’t want to discuss it.”

  “Why is he getting involved in the first place?” the man asked with irritation in his voice.

  The woman held the elevator door open and called over to Allison. “Are you going down?”

  Allison smiled. “Yes, please.” She hobbled into the elevator.

  The inside of the elevator had no buttons. The elevator descended on its own and then opened into a hallway. She stepped out and moved to the side to allow the older couple to pass by. Without a word, they strolled down the hall and turned down another corridor, continuing their conversation. She followed, looking into windows as she passed. Some rooms appeared to be offices. She stopped in front of a large lab, empty except for many cages of mice. This must be where they did animal testing. Perhaps the synthesis of Spiragene’s constructs was conducted somewhere down here as well. She’d have to remember to ask Brad.

  She lumbered down the corridor, awkwardly swinging the plastic boot, until she reached another window. She peered inside and was surprised to find she was looking down into a huge two-story space the size of a high school auditorium. Dozens of aging adults like the couple on the elevator were engaged in various activities. Three older women chatted while pushing strollers around a track circling the perimeter of the room. Two gray-haired men and a woman sat at a table playing a board game, each with a stroller parked next to their chairs. Several more seniors held babies in oversized recliners as they watched a big-screen TV or used their phones or tablets. It must’ve been grandchild visiting day at the senior center.

  “Magnificent, isn’t it?”

  She spun around, startled. An elderly woman stood next to her, her hands tightly wrapped around the handles of her walker. She was visibly trembling. Parkinson’s disease, maybe.

  “Austin Harris is a genius. Truly.”

  “What is it?” Allison asked.

  “You don’t know about the Vitality Spa?”

  She shook her head.

  “It’s a parabiosis center. I’ve been on the wait list for over two years …”

  Allison tried to break down the word to understand its meaning. Para-, meaning next to—

  “… and now, my host is finally available. It’ll be born in just two weeks.”

  —biosis, meaning life. She didn’t get it. “But what are they doing?”

  “Bonding. Look closely. See the IV tubing?”

  Allison moved closer to the window. Only one of the three women with strollers remained on the track. As she drew nearer, Allison saw thick red tubing hanging from beneath her shirt, as well as a yellow tube dangling beneath the back of her shirt, snaking around her body into the stroller. She was moving at a good pace, bouncing to whatever song was in her headphones, full of energy.

  “The matures share a circulatory system with the juveniles. They’re pumping each other’s blood. Isn’t that beautiful?”

  “What?” Her eyes were fixed on the woman walking with the stroller. Those were IV tubes. What this woman was saying—

  “See that man over there with the checkered shirt?” The woman pointed to the three board game players. “That’s Edward. He had end-stage liver disease with irreversible
decompensation. After three months of bonding with his host, his liver is completely healthy.”

  “Three months?” Allison frowned, still confused. Three months of bonding?

  “Uh-huh. And Dorothy there, on the track, she’s eighty-four. She came here in a wheelchair with spinal cord damage and could barely walk. Her spinal cord has been repaired, and her muscles have completely regenerated. She’s been bonded to her host for only nine months.”

  Oh god. They were IV tubes. Allison’s mouth went dry. “Bonded?”

  “Yeah, look here.” The woman grabbed her walker and inched toward a window opposite the one they were looking through. It looked straight into a dorm of some type. A woman lay on her side with a toddler folded in her arms, both of them fast asleep. Their blanket was pulled only waist high, revealing three tubes, two from the front of the woman’s torso and one from the back, similarly attached to the toddler.

  “That’s Marge. She’s been bonded to her host since it was born. Maybe two years now?”

  A chill ran through her body. They’re pumping each other’s blood. She stared at the sleeping couple.

  “Look,” her guide continued. “They share a blood supply and cerebral spinal fluid, so the juvenile’s blood is coursing through the veins of the adult, restoring function to all her tissues—the brain, the heart, the liver, even the skin. This doesn’t just slow the aging process; it reverses it. Austin Harris is a genius, isn’t he? He’s the first in the world to implement this concept, you know.”

  The toddler wasn’t moving, and Allison couldn’t tell if it was breathing. “Are they dead? The babies?”

  “Dead? Of course not.” The woman looked at her like she was crazy. “They sleep most of the day. Twenty-two hours, I think Austin said.”

  “They’re taking the blood from the babies?” It wasn’t a question, more an expression of her astonishment. This couldn’t be real. It had to be a crazy, freakish dream. This was the most disturbing sight she’d ever seen.