by Linda Hawley
His humor, given our situation, touched my heart, and since I couldn’t physically help him, I decided to play along. “I missed you, so I figured if I screamed long enough, they’d bring you in here to keep me company.”
I could hear air come out of his nose as he held in a chuckle. The sound confirmed that it was him.
“Before Psycho-doc comes back, can you tell me how we got here?” I asked.
“As we were running, your foot landed in a hole in the ground—”
“I knew that was gonna happen,” I exclaimed, interrupting him. “I had two premonitions, and sure enough, it happened,” I said with frustration.
“You were a little clumsy,” he said, his humor again surfacing.
“Very funny. Tell me the rest.”
He took another labored breath. “I heard you fall, looked over, and you were down…knocked unconscious. We were in the open with no cover. I hoped that our friend would be the first to reach us, but I planned for the worst.”
“Planned for the worst…does that mean that you unwrapped it?” I asked, trying to keep our words unclear to whoever was listening to our conversation.
“Yes.”
A big smile erupted on my face.
“It turned out to be a good strategy, since the agents were on us immediately. They must have tracked us from the safe house—night vision.”
“And our friend…do you know anything about him?” I asked, referring to Edwin.
“No,” he said, his voice hard.
“Let’s assume he’s among friends,” I said, trying to reassure him that his brother was picked up by GOG.
“Ann,” he called in the dark with more volume from his voice.
“Yeah?”
“They will come for us,” he said emphatically, then took several labored breaths.
Relief washed over me like a waterfall cleansing a cliff face. For the first time in the darkness, I felt real hope. With my mind and body aware—even though I was restrained—I knew that I needed to take inventory of our situation. First, I had to know Chow’s physical status.
“You have broken ribs, don’t you?”
He answered slowly. “Affirmative.”
His one-word reply worried me.
“I’m sure you already know this, but I’m reminding you. Take slow, deep breaths. It will hurt, but it’s important.”
“Thank you,” he said, talking down to me.
It was a good sign; his sense of humor wasn't gone, despite the pain.
“Well, I’d come over there and help you, but I’m a little tied up,” I said wryly.
In the quiet, I heard the air escape his nose again as he considered my statement. Refusing to allow defeat to seat itself within me—especially since I now knew that GOG was tracking us—I decided to keep him busy talking to keep his spirits up.
“We need to figure out how to get outta here. Do you know where we are?”
“Eden.”
“What?”
“We are in Eden…Eden, Texas,” he enunciated slowly.
Holy cow; we’re back in America.
“One of the FEMA detention centers,” Chow expounded.
“Great…nothing like the future coming true early,” I said mordantly. “How did they get us here?”
“Military transport. The only reason I know where we are is because I pretended to be knocked out by their drugs on the plane longer than I really was. I overheard two soldiers talking.”
“Hear anything else useful while you were eavesdropping…maybe something we can use to escape?”
“Their remote viewers gather here,” he said plainly.
I nearly giggled. “It looks like we don’t need to find them after all,” I said, my intent mischievous.
As the words escaped my mouth, I heard a metal key scrape into the lock. The light abruptly flipped on, and again I was temporarily blinded. When my vision returned, I snapped my head to Chow to get a look at him.
Both his eyes were bruised and swollen shut. He had significant cuts down his face, along with a good deal of dried blood, which also covered the front of his shirt. He held his arm to his chest; I assumed he was protecting his ribs. He didn’t appear to have any obvious broken bones. Like me, he was strapped in a metal chair with wheels on the bottom. Clearly our captors had given him no first aid.
So much for the Geneva Convention.
It was a terrible sight to see him injured, and my heart ached.
After entering through the door, Psycho-doc made a beeline for Chow. As he tipped Chow’s chair up and back to wheel him out of the room, he quipped to me, “Say bye-bye to your lover. You won’t be seeing him again.”
A cold chill jolted through me as the door slammed shut.
Chapter 27
EDEN, TEXAS
After Chow was taken away, it took me a half hour to get through my fear of what might happen to him. I remembered what Vanessa had told us—in the future of 2020—that Chow and I both would die after leaving the French safe house.
The room’s light was still on, because Psycho-doc’s hands had been busy wheeling out Chow. I tried to focus my mind on assessing our situation, to develop an escape plan.
So…the room’s bugged. Otherwise they wouldn’t have gotten Chow when they did. They didn’t want him telling me more.
I looked down at my shirt—saturated with Paul’s blood—and a surge of elation shot through me as I saw the Herkimer protruding. I then looked downward, past my jeans, and to my surprise saw that I still wore the boots that Françoise had given me. Turning my foot, I saw that the heel blade was still in place.
Perfect.
Covered with Paul’s now brownish-maroon blood was a badge of courage; it inspired me to believe that Chow and I would survive whatever was ahead of us. My spirits climbed as I focused on the positive.
Chow and Edwin are alive. GOG knows where we are. I’m wearing my lucky boots.
“And the light’s on!” I exclaimed out loud, not caring whether they heard me.
I smiled. As I sat bound to my chair, trying to use the time wisely, I reviewed all of Françoise’s coaching about being held captive. Jean-Pierre was right—what she had to teach me was valuable.
It’s already saved my life once in the past twenty-four hours.
“I’ll make sure you didn’t die in vain,” I said to Françoise, just under my breath.
* * *
Clearly, they were trying sensory deprivation by having me sit alone in the windowless, cold room. I’d been here for at least a couple of hours.
What do they think? That I’m going to just start blurting out all my secrets?
I tried doing some breathing exercises followed by meditation to calm myself in the nothingness. Ten minutes into finding some equilibrium, I heard a key again turn the lock.
That’s interesting, I noticed for the first time. They’re using old-fashioned keys, instead of biometric sensors to unlock the doors. I let the thought marinate in my mind for a moment. Wait…that’s not good. That means they want to keep what they do here secret, even from themselves. No database tracking—no accountability, I thought as a shiver went through me.
“Well, well, look who’s come to visit,” a man said in a Texas drawl as he entered through the door.
I quickly assessed him. If he were robbing a store, and I had to describe him, I’d say that he was a forty-something man with black hair, average height and weight, neither attractive nor unattractive—nothing that distinguished him.
“What was he wearing?” the officer might ask.
I would answer, “Perfectly ordinary business-casual attire and black cowboy boots.”
They’d never find the guy in the whole state of Texas.
With my lack of reply to his greeting, he said, “I wondered how long it’d be before y’all got here.”
His Southern drawl was surprisingly effeminate.
Well, that’s certainly distinguishing.
“Do I know you?” I asked, even tho
ugh I didn’t recognize him. I never forgot a face—even ordinary ones—but he was acting as though he knew me.
“No, ma’am. I’m just happy to see y’all join us,” he said, seemingly sincere. “My name’s Charlie,” he said, pointing to himself with his index finger.
He’s odd.
“I think you already know that I’m Ann,” I said sarcastically.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ann,” he said with a tip of his head, as though we were meeting at a Southern dinner party. It was ironic, since I was strapped to a chair against my will.
I was puzzled by his demeanor. He stood about five feet from me, as though he were making sure he was in a clear zone. He had a large tray in his hands, covered by a medical-looking large napkin. I had no idea what was under the white cloth. Since there was no table to set it down on, I figured that meant that whatever was under the cloth was something that would be used on me.
Let’s get it over with, I thought. I’d rather know what I’m facing than be surprised.
“I know you brought me a little present,” I said acerbically, gesturing to his tray.
“Yes!” he exclaimed.
As he lifted the cloth from the tray, I began to fill with dread.
“I’m sure your tummy’s fixin’ to growl.”
My eyes nearly popped out of my head. I thought he’d brought torture implements, but he instead held a full meal in his hands. My mouth began to salivate as if I were one of Pavlov’s dogs, and he'd rung the bell. I hadn’t eaten—I couldn't remember when I'd last eaten. I wasn't even sure how long I'd been drugged.
“I can see y’all are hungry for supper. Y’all probably feel like ya were hidden in the basement like a crazy aunt,” he said, seeming empathetic.
I stared at him as if he were the crazy one.
Charlie continued. “But here’s the deal. I can’t have ya goin’ all canine on me,” he said, frowning in disgust. “So y’all are gonna eat with one hand,” he said slowly, talking to me like a small child. “The right one. But…no f-u-n-n-y stuff,” he said, enunciating each letter and pointing to me. He acted like a mother hen, which was almost funny.
“I agree to your rules,” I said quickly.
Just gimme the food.
He smiled in an ordinary way, pleased with himself as he cautiously approached my chair. I smelled his musky cologne wafting over as he got close. He swiveled up a table from beneath my seat and then set the tray of food on it. As he moved, I heard keys jingle and beheld an entire ring of keys hanging from his belt.
Is it 1972? I wondered.
I hadn’t seen a key ring like that for more than a couple of decades. He seemed to have keys for the whole facility.
That’ll come in handy, I thought, thinking ahead to my escape. Maybe I’ll have to kill you after all.
After untying my right hand, he gracefully stepped back from me, out of my arm’s range.
Oh, you’re good.
He smiled as though he’d heard me.
“When y’all are done, don’t get all worked up or holler,” he said thickly, pausing as he tutted at me. I guess he’d heard me earlier. “I’ll keep an eye on y’all and git the tray when ya had your fill.”
His words confirmed that the room was wired for video, as well as audio.
Just what I thought.
“And then?” I asked, wanting to know what would happen after I ate.
He turned grimly serious. “The director will meet with y’all.”
“Food, then torture?” I said cleverly. “Sounds good.”
His head snapped to me, but his mouth remained mute. I had no idea what to make of the Texan.
My dominant hand is free, I have a good meal, and I know who the keymaster is.
It was turning out to be a good day after all.
* * *
As promised, Charlie returned immediately after I took my last bite from the tray. Maybe he didn’t want to take any chance I’d start screaming again.
“Y’all look as happy as a gopher in soft dirt,” he said to me as he took my tray and then returned the table to its place under my chair.
I chuckled slightly. Charlie was growing on me. I allowed him to again restrain my wrist, figuring that if he’d untied my wrist once, he’d do it a second time.
After removing my empty tray to another room, he returned and then wheeled me down a long hall, which seemed to go on and on. It was white and sterile—just like my room. No pictures on the wall, only lights above and linoleum below. He stopped at an unmarked door and inserted a metal key.
This must be the director’s office.
Spinning me around so that he could maneuver through the door first, I came into the office backward. As he turned my chair forward, I laid my eyes on a sixty-something round man with a high forehead and thinning white hair who could have doubled as Humpty Dumpty. But it wasn’t him who kept my attention, but the woman who sat next to his metal desk.
Grace.
I seethed inside.
Chapter 28
“That’ll be all,” Humpty said to Charlie.
I barely noticed the Texan leave or the door closing behind him as I stared down the traitor.
“I see you remember Grace,” Humpty said politely, watching me closely.
“Hello, Ann,” Grace said to me, her voice as flat and calm as a still lake. She met the intensity of my stare with her own.
“I can’t believe I grieved you for a single second,” I said, spite exploding from my words.
If I wasn’t restrained, I’d kill you—and Humpty too.
“Oh, that…” she said flippantly. “We all need our cover now, don’t we?”
I tried all I could to repress my rage but was failing miserably. I really wanted my right hand free again.
“I can see you two are getting along just fine,” Humpty said, smiling.
Are you deaf and blind?
“Yes,” Grace confirmed, nodding to him.
What? Are they crazy?
“Ann, I asked Charlie to bring you in, because I wanted to ask you a question,” Humpty said to me politely, as if we were having afternoon tea.
A choice of how I’ll kill you? I raised my eyebrow.
“I can see you’re interested,” he said.
Bonehead.
“I’ll get right to it, then. I’d like to know if you’d like to join our project as one of our lead remote viewers.”
My intake of breath was audible.
What?
“Yes, I can see you’re surprised,” Humpty said.
I steadied myself. “Why don’t you introduce yourself first?” I said, wanting to know the name of who I’d be gutting later.
“I can see you’re a stickler for manners…reminds me of Charlie,” he said shrewdly. “You may call me Mr. Smith.”
I laughed out loud. “You’re kidding. Come on,” I said, sick of the aliases.
He bolted from his desk and was by my side faster than imaginable for such a portly man. He had my hair in his hand, pulled back, exposing my neck, and then I realized there was a knife, the cold edge against my throat.
I was utterly helpless.
“It’s time you learned some respect,” he said through clenched teeth, the words soaked with agitation.
I didn’t think he’d kill me—he needed me too much—but I wasn’t quite certain.
Maybe it’s time to be more docile.
I closed my eyes and remained silent, imagining a cowering dog to an abusive master. We stayed that way for a full thirty seconds; I’d been counting. Then, just as suddenly, he retreated back to his military-styled desk, sheathing the butcher knife as he went.
As he repositioned himself in his squeaky chair, he smiled at me and sat up ramrod straight.
He’s a nut…be more careful, Ann, I coached myself.
Grace’s expression hadn’t seemed to have changed.
“Mr. Smith and I are interested in working with you,” she began, clearly allowing Humpty time to work
through his anger-management techniques. “Ultimately, it’s your decision.”
“Yes,” Smith agreed. “It’s your choice to leave this facility in a box or not,” he said, matter of fact.
I think you need some more work on those anger-management skills.
I didn’t know what to say. I really didn’t want to enrage him again, so I remained quiet.
“Let’s see if we can inspire Ann to make her decision more quickly,” Humpty said to Grace.
Grace nodded and then left the room.
His office was filled with 1950s–era, military-issued metal furniture. There was only one thing on his desk—a brown manila folder with tabs. If I were a betting woman, I would have said that was my government file.
“Thank you for the meal,” I said, looking down at his desk to convey submission, even though he was staring at me.
“You’re welcome,” he said curtly. “You know, you’re not as valuable as they might think,” he said, surprising me.
Who’s “they”?
“As a matter of fact, I believe we have just as much remote-viewing talent here already, or more.”
Hmm, this guy’s complicated.
I heard a key in the lock, and as the knob turned and someone entered, Smith revealed an evil grimace. I turned my head to the door and, to my dismay, found Psycho-doc staring back with a grin, baring his nasty teeth.
Oh crap.
He tipped my chair back and wheeled me out of Humpty’s office and then down that same hall.
As we entered a new room, he turned me backward, pulling me into the room. He turned me so that I was facing a mirrored window, which looked into the adjoining room. It took me a second to realize that it was Chow in the other room, still strapped to his chair in the same physical condition I’d last seen him in. He was in front of a metal vat of water. Beside him stood a military-looking guy in his midtwenties.