The X Factor

by Bella Street

  Plus she didn't want to be reminded of those days. She preferred anger—anger at those who put her in the position of doing something as stupid as crawling into that dark hole. Of course she'd been relieved to wake up and find that all her innards were where they'd belonged.

  Now if she could only stop feeling like a hollowed out shell.

  Seffy closed her eyes, trying to reduce her spiking heart rate. Why was it so hard for them to accept that she just wanted to forget the whole thing? With the ease of long practice, she would eventually be able to shove the memories into their very own hidey-hole and shut the mental door tight. And unlike Pandora, she wasn't the littlest bit interested in taking a peek inside.

  Olga walked into the room. Seffy relaxed, glad her former nurse was back on the job.

  “Doesn't look like Dr. Raymond got much out of you.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I've given him the same answers for the last three days. Why doesn't he accept them?”

  “Perhaps he suspects that you're not telling him the truth.”

  “I'm just not telling him what he wants to hear. Besides, since he's compound-sponsored, there's probably some dark plot to fish around in my brain for something to exploit.”

  Olga considered this for a moment. “Yes, you're probably right.” She took Seffy's temperature, pulse, and blood pressure. “Physically, you're coming along well.”

  “Yay for me.”

  “Though you're a bit more cynical than I remember.”

  “This place does that to a person.”

  Olga scribbled on her chart. “As you can see I am as yet untouched.”

  Seffy blew out a ragged breath. “They should mention cynicism on the brochure instead of some tripe about peace and communal farmy goodness.”

  The nurse's lips twitched. “I'm pretty sure there's not a brochure for Fugere.”

  “Which proves my point exactly,” Seffy said, feeling more contrary than ever.

  Olga pulled up the chair the psychiatrist had vacated. “Seriously, I don't like to see you so down. You actually have darker shadows under your eyes than you did the day we found you. You're listless, sarcastic, and even your friends apparently aren't able to cheer you up.”

  “You mean the friends who ruthlessly rejected me?”

  Olga regarded her for a moment. “Yes, those friends.”

  “I'm sure they're busy thinking up new ways to tell me off.”

  “I can see that you're still upset with what they said to you—even though you've been told they were under pharmacological influence.”

  Seffy looked at the nurse with weary eyes. “I wouldn't have turned on them like that. No matter what.”

  Olga sighed and started to speak.

  Seffy stopped her. “I think it's safe to say that I've been through the worst 'influence' and I haven't hurt anyone.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “You gonna name names?”

  Olga pressed her lips together at Seffy's tone. “I think you know Gareth is beside himself over what happened. And I think you two were having troubles before this latest mess.”

  Seffy plucked at her blankets, her shoulders weighted. Something hovered at the edges of her consciousness, but she couldn't seem to grasp it. “I'm thinking things with Gareth are in a bridge too far kind of place.”

  Olga leaned back in her chair. “Surely not. He seems to be the understanding type.”

  A headache began forming at the back of Seffy's skull. She didn't want to talk about Gareth, didn't want to think about the kiss he'd placed on her cheek which smacked of betrayal on some level. Didn't want to think any thoughts that included him.

  She wadded a knot of blanket in her fist. “So here's a question: why did you believe some lackey when they said I didn't want you around any more?”

  The nurse's face reddened. “Obviously I was prepared to believe the worst.”

  “Which was?”

  Olga pursed her lips. “I just thought you didn't want me to be your nurse, which is an opinion you're certainly entitled to.”

  Seffy shook her head. “Don't believe crap like that. It's not like I have that many allies around here.”

  “What about Trent?”

  Making a face, Seffy said, “He's just looking for some easy booty.”

  Olga cleared her throat. “I'm not even going to ask what that means, but I don't think you should be so hard on the...people in your life.”

  Seffy frowned. “You mean the men, right? Gareth and Trent? Well, don't worry. They don't want what I have to offer.”

  “Dare I ask what that is?”

  “A scarred body, grown-out roots, bloodshot eyes...yeah, I'll keep my options open, all right.” She stared down at her ragged hands, realizing that until the apocalypse thing, she'd almost convinced herself she had retained some innocence. “When I look in the mirror, I see a dirty soul. That's probably why Trent hangs around me. I think...I think he's dirty too.” Lifting her gaze, she saw Olga's sad eyes.

  The nurse shook her head and stood up. “That's a terrible way to think, young lady. You should take the psychiatrist's help more seriously if this is how you're going to go on.” Tucking her pen in her uniform pocket, she sighed. “Your friends will be here for your walk soon.”

  After she left, tears filled Seffy's eyes. God, she was tired. She wanted to close her eyes and sleep away the madness. And when she opened her eyes, she wanted to be home, thinking everything was just a bad dream. Maybe those nightmare people in silver suits really had scooped out her insides. She felt so damn empty.

  On top of that, she realized she'd need to be careful not to reveal too much of the despair consuming her. It would only mean more visits with shrinks and probably more drugs. No, thank you. As far as contraband was concerned, she was committed to clean living from here on out. Scrambled brains, not so much fun.

  The door opened and Addison and Lani walked in. Their expressions were smiling but apprehensive. Guilt hung over them like a rain cloud. Seffy mustered a smile, wishing they hadn't bothered. “Hey, guys.”

  “Are you up to a walk?” Lani asked, perching on the edge of the bed.

  “There's nothing I like more than shuffling through lonely institutional corridors wearing a thin, backless hospital gown.”

  Addison glanced at Lani. “She's in a good mood today.”

  Lani pressed her hands together, a tentative smile on her face. “That must be because you heard about the party we're having.”

  “It's practically in your honor,” Addy said with a rueful smile.

  “Wow, practically and everything?”

  Lani tucked her hair behind her ear. “Let's get you up and moving. Olga says there's risk of pulmonary embolism if you lay around too much.”

  Seffy clamped her mind against a retort about the danger of being lost for three days. She obediently slid from the bed, wincing when her feet hit the cold floor.

  “Oh, and we brought you a present.” Addison held out a bag.

  Seffy took it and looked inside. A pair of fluffy pink slippers.

  “You'll notice they match the pink of your Juicy suit.” She quirked her lips. “Well, the color it used to be.”

  “Thanks. These are a welcome addition to my hospital haute couture.” She dropped the slippers onto the floor and slipped her feet into them. “Cushy comfy.” She stood up, holding onto the I.V. stand for support. “Where did you get them?”

  “Well, now that we're allowed into the rest of the compound, we found a store.”

  Seffy stared at Addison, startled. “We're allowed now? Who says?”

  Addy and Lani exchanged glances. “Fenn said we could.”

  She studied their stricken expressions, then snorted softly. “Everyone but me, right?”

  Lani's face crumpled as she nodded. “Sorry, Sef.”

  “Oh, that's okay,” she said with false brightness. “I guess I'm just special.”

  With her friends on either side, they slowly left the room
and walked down the hallway. “So, tell me,” Seffy said, wanting to lighten the tension, “have you had any chance to explore with your newfound freedom?”

  “A little,” Lani said, her voice betraying her excitement. “But it's mostly just residences, school, garden areas and fields.”

  “The store just has basic, boring stuff,” Addy said, trying to sound withering—and failing.

  “Yeah, and even though we asked around, there are no nail salons, no hair salons—”

  “Well, there's like a barber place to get plain ol' haircuts,” Addison corrected Lani.

  “But not perms, no coloring or highlighting. Sef, this place is all holistic, which as you know, I'm a fan of, but oh my goodness, Fugere simply takes it to extremes.”

  “So I'm sunk,” Seffy said moodily. “Maybe I'll just shave my head bald. Anything would look better than my two-tone hair.”

  Addison shuddered. “Please, don't even joke like that. Lani and I figure we could work something out with a little hydrogen peroxide if things get that dire.”

  “Things are that dire.”

  “Well, look at the bright side, you're thinner than me, which was always a stated goal of yours. Am I right?”

  Being weak and frail wasn't quite what she had in mind when she'd said that. “I guess I should enjoy it as long as I can since Olga has me on some vitamin-packed protein diet. When I asked her if it was high in fat, she wouldn't tell me.”

  “Maybe that's why your hair has been growing out so fast,” Addy said. “I was wondering if it was all those chemicals you were souped up on.”

  “Speaking of chemicals,” Lani said quietly, “Sef, you have to know how sorry—”

  Seffy put up her hand. “Let's just start fresh, okay? Just forget any of that ever happened.” Even as she said the words, she wasn't sure she'd be able to follow her own advice.

  “I sure want to,” Addison said. “But we're worried about Gareth. It's eating him alive.”

  Yeah, well, join the club. “I'll talk to him at the party thing. Until then, tell him not to worry about it.” She sensed the two looking at each other over her head.

  “Okay, time to go back,” Lani said, helping her turn at the end of the hallway.

  “So, tell me about this little soirée. Will there be a theme?”

  “We talked about it,” Lani said eagerly. “We could go with The Millennium since it will pretty much just be us. Is that too weird?”

  “Not as weird as you originally wanting to do an 80s theme,” Addison said.

  “I can't help it. The 80s is my favorite theme. I just happen to forget that we're kinda in it right now.”

  “Who's all coming?”

  “The Apocalypse Babes, of course,” Lani said, pleased to use their once agreed-upon title. “And we're thinking of having a secret vote to see if we should include Trent, Jared, and the girls. It seems kind of mean to leave them out after all we've been through.”

  A corner of Seffy's mouth lifted. “Have they been lobbying for inclusion or something?”

  “No,” Addison said dryly. “This is all in Lani's imagination.”

  “I'm just saying I think it would be a nice gesture. Instead of us and them, it could just be us.”

  “There will still be the compound Thems, though, right?” Seffy teased.

  Lani frowned. “I don't know about that yet.”

  “Yeah, let them prove they're not out to get us before we give them a clever nickname,” Addison said crossly.

  Seffy seconded the motion.

  “At any rate, it will be the eight of us. And we've invited Fenn and Fiona.”

  “Ah, Fiona. At least this won't be a boring party.” Seffy looked at Addy and they shared a moment of perfect understanding.

  “And Olga, of course. Can you think of anyone else?”

  “Has everyone said they'll be there?” Seffy said, thinking of Trent.

  “Uh, we didn't actually send out invitations,” Addy said. “Just verbal invites.”

  “Of course they'll all come. Why wouldn't they? It's not like anyone has a busy social calendar around here.”

  Seffy wished she shared Lani's optimism, not for the party, just for anything. Like living. They arrived back at the hospital room. As they helped her back into bed, she fought a leaden feeling of gloom.

  “Tomorrow morning,” Lani said. “That's when Olga says you can go back to your room. The party will be at six. We'll have finger foods and—”

  “Alcohol?” Seffy asked hopefully.

  Lani clucked her tongue. “After what we've been through? No way. So, just soda.”

  “Diet?”

  “Most definitely.”

  She took a breath, trying to be a brave little toaster. “Okay, I'll be there.”

  Lani kissed her forehead. “Get some rest.”

  Addison patted her shoulder. “Don't get used to all this spoiling, now.”

  Seffy smiled. “I won't.” As they left, she sank down in the bed and turned her face into the pillow, blinking hard against the building heat behind her eyelids.

  If only she could suffocate herself before despair did the job for her.

  ***

  Olga decided Seffy was ready to be released from full-time care the following morning. The mysterious marks on her head and torso had nearly disappeared and Olga thought she'd do better in the company of friends, away from the stuffy hospital room. If she only knew. The nurse accompanied her to her room in silence. Seffy knew she wanted her to talk, but what she felt deep inside had no articulation, at least nothing that didn't include juicy cuss words.

  When they walked into the room, Seffy saw the sofa first—it was mud brown, shiny with wear on the armrests, but the overstuffed cushions looked positively cloud-like to her aching body. She pressed her fingers against her mouth, breathing hard to control her composure. It took some serious concentration before she could remove her hands. If she started blubbering in front of Olga, fussing would ensue.

  “Well, look at all these flowers, and a banner! So thoughtful!”

  Slowly, Seffy looked around and saw a couple vases of flowers, some balloons, and a hand-written welcome home banner. “The flowers are probably full of listening devices and surveillance cameras,” she said dismissively. Her attention drifted back to the sofa.

  “Shame on you. These are from your friends.”

  “They're lovely,” Seffy said, taking a deep breath and batting her eyes at the nurse.

  “You're a horrible child.”

  “I never said I wasn't.”

  Olga gave her a stern look. “I'm assuming you'll want a shower.”

  “You assume correctly.”

  The nurse took a plastic chair into the bathroom. When she came out, she said, “I want you to sit during your shower, and I'll be right outside the door if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, Olga,” Seffy said. And this time she meant it.

  While the water pounded down on her head, Seffy let a few pathetic tears fall. Of the many things she'd dreaded about coming back to her room was getting back into her bed. She'd been in bed enough. The other option was this hard plastic chair. But now...she had a sofa. That piece of furniture meant more than anything else to her at the moment. And coming from Trent, well, that blew her mind. He hadn't visited her in the hospital room, but he apparently knew how much she'd enjoy curling up in comfort on those cushions. A small measure of her loneliness eased.

  When she came out, drained from just washing her hair and getting dressed in her soft velour tracksuit, she made a beeline to the sofa and settled in. Olga surveyed her with a concerned gaze as she held out a sheet of paper.

  “Here are instructions on how to take it easy, when to take your pain pills, and how to be aware of any signs of infection.”

  Seffy accepted the paper without looking at it. “Please tell me there's no more Haz-Mat team.”

  “Just me. Once a day.”

  Thank God. “And will you tell me my stats? I'm so sick of secr
ets.”

  “Of course. And if you have any concerns, experience troubling dreams, or just want to talk, you call me. There's a phone on the desk and my number is on that paper.”

  Seffy regarded the older woman with a pang of affection. “Thank you, Olga. For everything.”

  The nurse patted her cheek. “You just take it easy and get better, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  When she was alone, Seffy laid her head on the arm of the sofa and promptly fell asleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Wake up.”

  She's back. Polka dot girl. No. Not again! Seffy struck out blindly until something grabbed her wrists.

  “Hey, Seffy, it's me. It's Gareth.”

  Seffy opened her eyes and stared at the man crouching in front of her for several seconds until she recognized him. His brown eyes were pleading as he released her.

  She passed a trembling hand over her face, embarrassment warring with something she couldn't identify. “I'm sorry. I'm still a bit punchy.” She bit her lip. Damn. She promised herself not to make any mention of what had happened. Gareth lowered his eyes as he stood up. He'd caught the unintended inference of her words.

  “I'm here to bring you to the party.”

  The way he said 'party' told her he was probably about as excited about it as she was. She smiled and took his proffered hand. When she was on her feet, Gareth hugged her. Seffy hugged him back, grateful he was regular Gareth and no longer subliminal Gareth. The latter version didn't do hugs so much.

  When his embrace went on longer than she expected, she knew he was struggling. Her suspicion was confirmed when she heard him sniff.

  “If you make me cry,” she whispered, “it'll mess up my makeup.”

  Gareth pulled away and looked down at her. “I'll never forgive myself for what happened.”

  “You have to,” she said, mustering every ounce of emotional restraint to keep from flying apart at the seams. The tears shining in his eyes nearly undid her. “We were all victims. You're not the bad guy here. Whoever was behind this, he's the bad guy. We'll find him and subject him to a Millennium-themed party for revenge.”