by Bella Street
She looked up through a haze of blood and saw the face of one of the silver-suited people. Gareth stared back at her, his expression impassive. Before she could react, he reached back into the body cavity and pulled out her heart. It slipped from his fingers and dropped onto the table.
“Forget about it,” the other one said. “It's not worth it.”
Seffy splayed her hands across her middle to hold inside whatever was left. Then she ran.
Ran until she knew they'd never hurt her again.
***
A creaking sound nudged at Trent's consciousness. He snapped his head up and looked around. Seeing Seffy's empty bed dissolved his sleepiness and sent his heart lurching in his chest. Where was she? He then realized her main door was opening slowly. Trent jumped up and slid through the opening of the closet door and pulled it nearly closed. He pressed his eye against the crack and watched as the men in their stupid silver suits entered the room.
They set a small plastic tray on the chair he'd vacated and stood looking at the bed. Trent focused on the tray and saw several marked tubes, syringes and strips of rubber. He assumed some were for blood collections. He could see clear liquid shining inside two others. When their backs were turned, he eased from the closet and took three silent steps across the room. Holding his breath, he grabbed the two full tubes and silently pushed the chair close behind one of the figures.
Back in the closet, he watched as one of the men looked in the bathroom. The man returned and put up his hands. The other one shook his head, then backed up. He stumbled against the chair, knocking it over and shattering the remaining contents of the carrier. Their muffled exclamations kept Trent firmly behind the door, not daring to breath.
He glanced at the two tubes in his hands but couldn't decipher the markings. Slipping one into each pocket, he looked through the crack again. One man grabbed a towel from the bathroom and threw it over the mess. The other scooped up the towel and its contents and dropped it into a plastic bag. They checked the room one last time, then left.
Trent stood in the closet, panting. Where the hell was Seffy? He hurried back to his room and hid the tubes until he could figure out what to do with them. Next, after checking in his bathroom and under his bed, he returned to Seffy's room and looked in every nook and cranny in case she was hiding. Nothing.
He checked his watch. It was 3:40. How could she have slipped away like that? Trent frowned. And why did the Haz-Mat team come so early? Twenty to four seemed like a ridiculous time to wake someone up. Surely an exam would be closer to seven in the morning? He ran his hands through his hair and tried to think through to the next step.
Trent headed to the others' rooms, lightly knocking, and wasn't surprised at the lack of response. He twisted the handle to Addison's room and peeked inside. She was asleep. Next, Lani's. Same thing. He tried Gareth's room and was shocked to find it also unlocked. He too was asleep. Trent tried each room and everyone was present and accounted for. He closed his eyes, trying to focus his thoughts. Seffy mentioned she'd locked her door and yet it was always open when he tried it. What was going on?
Trent looked up and down the hallways and decided to head toward the cafeteria. Maybe she'd gotten hungry and didn't want to wake him. But wouldn't she have at least noticed he was in her room? Smacked him upside the head for his presumption? A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Something was way off here.
He headed to the cafeteria and found the shadowy space empty. Soon the morning shift would be gearing up for the day. Trent checked the store room and every other room along the way. Next, he started toward where his contacts could be found, but he stopped when he realized they wouldn't be up and about for a few more hours. Trent scrubbed his face in frustration. He would simply have to wait.
After rechecking his and Seffy's rooms once again, he prowled next to his bed. If she'd been taken, wouldn't the Haz-Mat people be in on it? If that was the case, why would they seem confused by her absence? And why come by so early in the first place? Trent changed into clean clothes to kill some time. As soon as the clock struck seven, he headed for his contacts.
Three men in the Fugere coveralls congregated near the entrance to the garage. Watching their expressions carefully, he asked them if any plans had been made regarding a change in Seffy's care. Their disinterested responses both relieved and worried him. Trent thought about the tubes in his pockets. He asked where he might find Olga. With a new trail to follow, he set off for the nurse's room.
Trent knocked on her door after following a rabbit trail of hallways. Moments later, Olga answered the door, her kind blue eyes wary as they peered at him over half-moon glasses. As soon as he saw her, he felt a portion of his angst ease. She'd been good to Seffy after they'd arrived at the compound. He hoped she still would—while wondering why she'd been absent since the coup in the basement.
“What are you doing here?” She pushed a lock of short white hair from her face. “Do you know what time it is?”
“I'm sorry to be so early, but I need your help. Seffy's missing.”
The door opened wider. “What do you mean 'missing'?”
“She's gone. She's been having...episodes, so I was watching over her last night. I fell asleep for a few minutes and when I woke up, she was gone. She's not anywhere.”
“So why come to me? I didn't have anything to do with her disappearance.”
Trent looked at the older woman's stern features. “I guess I thought you and she had become friends.”
Olga snorted. “That was before she asked that I no longer offer my services.”
He frowned. “She told you herself she didn't want you around?”
Olga thought for a moment. “No,” she said slowly, “A message was passed along, presumably from her.”
“Think about it, why would Seffy want to get rid of one of the few people she trusted around here?”
“You'd better come in.” She opened the door wider for Trent to enter. Olga tightened the belt around her turquoise robe as she shut and locked the door behind her. “And you better begin at the beginning.”
Absently noting the traditional Victorian décor of her residence, Trent told her of Seffy's nightmares and visions, ending with the last one and why he was the most concerned about it.
Olga studied him. “Why are you here instead of that dark one Seffy's so crazy about?”
He felt his face stiffen. “Would you believe it if I said her friends no longer want anything to do with her?”
“No.”
“Well, that seems to be the case.”
“Do they know she's missing?”
“Not yet, but I'll tell them later.”
Olga sighed and sat on the arm of an overstuffed chair. “I'm not sure how you think I can help.”
Trent pulled the vials from his pocket. “Maybe you can tell me what these are.”
Olga took the vials and studied the labels. Her expression tightened. “Where did you get these?”
“From the tray Seffy's medical team brought with them today.”
She sent him a steely look. “There's not a single reason why these would be anywhere near her.”
“Have you heard of anyone else in the compound being treated by guys in silver suits?”
“No.”
“So these had to be meant for Seffy.”
“Then she's in serious trouble.”
Trent's gut twisted. “What are they?”
“Psychotropic drugs used to induce hallucinations.” She held up a tube. “This one is dimethyltryptamine. The other is basically LSD. The fact that these are in liquid forms suggest they're being injected in high doses.”
Trent felt blind-sided. “God.”
“When are her hallucinations occurring?”
“Um,” he said, trying to form a coherent thought, “mostly at night.”
“That doesn't make sense if they're injecting her in the morning. The effect is immediate.”
“I just know that Seffy has a lo
t of crazy dreams and experiences and that she's gone missing.”
Olga stared at the vials. “I can look into this but I doubt I'll get very far since I'm not in the loop. But what I can do is start gathering supplies together for when you do find her. She'll be needing some serious medical attention.”
Trent blew out a breath. “Thanks for your help.” He leaned close and looked into her eyes. “Unless you're evil.”
“Fiddle.”
He cracked a smile. “Until we find her, trust no one.”
Olga gave him a lowering look from behind her glasses. “Go find Seffy.”
***
Trent visited each of the others' rooms, but no one had seen Seffy and no one seemed to care. Lani and Addison acted unconcerned and parroted some line about Seffy's dramas. Gareth's reaction shocked him.
“Maybe she's finally figured out she's not wanted.”
Trent stared at him, trying to reconcile him to the earlier version of a guy with an annoying hero complex. “You do understand she could be in danger.”
“Sef puts herself in harm's way. I think it's just to get attention.”
“So why don't you give her some?”
“What?”
“Attention, if that's what she wants.”
Gareth shrugged. “I've done all I can do for her. It's time for her to stand on her own two feet.”
Trent suddenly saw red. “I cannot believe this. You'd risk her life to prove a point?”
“How would I be risking her life? I haven't seen her for a while.”
He watched Gareth's face. “I thought you loved her.”
“Maybe...a long time ago. But she's abused it.”
Trent snorted. “Whatever, dude. You're useless.”
There was a knock at the door. Addison poked her head in. “Breakfast is in thirty.”
Disgusted, Trent left the room, pushing past the redhead and off to find Fenn.
***
“What was that all about?” Addison asked Gareth.
He waved her in. “Trent's upset about something to do with Seffy.”
She came in and leaned against his desk. “Why should he care? I thought he hated her.”
Gareth frowned, his mind grasping for something—but that something eluded him. “We haven't seen her lately, right?”
“Right. We told her to stop coming around.”
He nodded. “Because of her dramas. Now I remember.”
Addison snorted. “Looks like she's in the middle of another one. Good riddance.”
“Yeah,” he said slowly. “Good riddance.”
***
From his contacts, Trent knew Fenn was on the west side of the compound—but that only narrowed down the building by a quarter. While dreading the thought of checking every room to find him, he decided to start at the center and make his way outward. In the end, it wasn't that difficult. The cadre of security around his rooms gave the location away. Hopefully these guys were legit and not some coup-wannabes.
Why did Fenn need so much protection anyway? Was it because of recent events or did he always have this many? Either way they would make getting to him all that much harder. They'd never let an outsider anywhere near him.
Trent waited around a corner and listened to men talk to one another and on their radios. No news about Seffy that he could tell. After about thirty minutes, he found out when the shift change would be—the best time to run some interference. But it was hours away and he couldn't wait—growing anxiety made him want action now.
Trent heard footsteps approach. He ducked into the nearest storage closet and left the door open a crack. When he saw it was a member of the security team, he slipped from the closet and jumped the man from behind, covering his mouth with his hand.
Surprise gave him the advantage and he wrestled the guard into the closet. Trent relieved him of his gun once he knocked him out. Utilizing the set of handcuffs and ever-present storage closet duct tape, he soon reappeared in the hallway in a dark blue uniform. Keeping his head down, Trent approached the area, hoping he could simply walk past the rest of the team.
A pounding sound from behind startled him. Damn. Must not have hit him hard enough. The noise alerted several members of the team, who jumped up to investigate. Trent took advantage of the distraction, and keeping his head averted, threaded his way closer to the main doors of Fenn's apartments.
A security guard looked him up and down. “You new?”
“Yeah. Hey, run me through protocol once again?”
The guard rattled off a list of rules, then glanced toward the commotion. With his attention diverted, Trent clocked him on the back of the head with the butt of his gun and dragged his unconscious body through the doors the others had been guarding. He found himself in a dark antechamber with retro lighting. The area was quiet and smelled like incense, and included black couches and chairs one would find in a waiting room.
Leaning the man up against the wall and taking his gun, Trent pushed through the next set of doors. The first thing he noticed was music blaring from some unseen sound system—Jefferson Starship if he remembered right. Find Your Way Back. The song pounded in time with his heartbeat as he took in his surroundings. It was a light, spacious area with contemporary furnishings for the day. Large potted plants occupied corners and black leather sectionals were grouped around glass-topped coffee tables over white shag carpeting. High windows allowed in light, bathing the space in a pale pink glow.
First he checked the many bedrooms. All were empty. Trent saw a kitchen area and headed toward it. It was also empty. Past the kitchen was a door. He approached it and looked inside to see a darkened sitting room just as the guitar solo to the song started. Fenn was there, at a table with his arm stretched out along its length.
Trent watched in disbelief as he tied a strip of rubber around his upper arm and tapped the distended vein inside his elbow. With single-minded intensity, the leader of the compound injected a needle into the vein, released the rubber strip and leaned back, closing his eyes in silent ecstasy. Trent's mouth went dry, the air caught in his lungs.
He watched Fenn's sweating face relax, watched the shaking hands still.
Trent struggled to think past the driving beat, trying to absorb the fact that the man he'd come to for help was a junkie. It actually explained a lot—Fenn's sickly appearance, his lack of control of the events of the compound. The song faded out.
A muffled shout outside the doors caught Fenn's attention. He slowly looked up and saw Trent for the first time. His face drained of color.
Trent swallowed. “In about twelve seconds, several members of your security force are going to bust in here looking for me.”
The burning light in his eyes seemed to flicker. “What do you want?”
“I need help finding Seffy.”
“She's gone?” He slowly shook his head in an obvious effort to clear it. “I don't know...why are you coming to me?”
“I need help. I need bodies to help me look.”
“Fenn?” The shout came from the kitchen.
Fenn looked at Trent with glazed panic. “Help me...hide...”
Trent didn't need him to finish the sentence. He rushed over and grabbed a nearby decorative basket and swept the drug paraphernalia into it. He stowed the basket behind a plant, handed Fenn the sweatshirt from the back of his chair, and came to stand next to him as a uniformed guard burst in the door.
The guard leveled his gun at Trent. “Sir, are you alright?”
Fenn finished putting on the sweatshirt and motioned for the man to relax. “Everything's fine,” he said thickly. “Trent needed to talk to me.”
“He hurt two of our men!”
The remainder of the force streamed into the room with guns drawn.
“Are your men okay?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Well, everyone can go back to their stations then. Trent here didn't think you'd let him in if he just asked.”
“Of course we wouldn't let an
outsider in.”
Another guard spoke up. “If he's not a threat, have him hand over the gun.”
Fenn looked up at Trent, who sighed and tossed it at the officer's feet.
The man grabbed it. “We'll stay close by until he leaves.”
“Just as close as the kitchen. I need to talk to Trent alone.”
The men reluctantly left the room. Trent closed the door. When he turned around he saw Fenn with his head in his hands.
“You weren't supposed to see that.”
Trent rubbed the back of his neck, bitterly disappointed. Obviously Fenn was not in control. Someone else was exploiting his weakness, and Seffy was paying the price. Trent sat down in a chair on the other side of the table, his mind racing with dark thoughts. “Yeah, I get that.”
“Give me a minute, okay?”
Trent watched Fenn close his eyes and breathed deeply for several minutes.
Trent clasped his hands together and watched the whitening of his knuckles. Could this get any worse?
“You said something about Seffy?”
He looked up. “Yes, she's gone missing.”
“For how long?” Fenn forced his eyes open in an obvious attempt to look interested.
“Just a few hours at this point, but—”
His lids grew heavy. “Are you sure she's not in the library or garden?” He took several more deep breaths. “This place is...huge. She could be anywhere.”
“Actually, because she's still under quarantine, she doesn't have access to the public places.”
“So...she wandered off when?”
Trent suppressed a jolt of anger. “At about 3:30 this morning, after having several nightmares and hallucinations. I have reason to believe she's in danger.”
“And what do you need from me?” Fenn opened his eyes, their shocking blue color clouded by an opium haze.
“I need men. To comb the rooms, fields, the entire compound.”