Blake! Help me!
Chapter 19
The storm of violent and horrific memories assaulted Renee’s mind almost immediately as she stepped into the inky darkness of Randy’s unoccupied mind. She crumpled into the fetal position as she relived the abusive moments she had seen in Blake’s head again, but this time from the perspective of a sick and damaged mind. She wretched, physically ill, as she watched the monster transform Carol Carter from a misguided but loving mother into a brainwashed zombie who allowed not only herself to be physically and emotionally abused, but believed both she and her son deserved such treatment.
And that was only one small part of Randall Lawson’s life of unrepentant violence, which had begun at the age of thirteen. Renee realized that Blake had been right to worry about the possibility of permanent damage to her mind after what she had seen. But as the bombardment ended, she pushed away the horrific images, closed her mind to the disgust and shock, and focused on the final scenes she had witnessed, burning every last awful detail into her mind.
A hospital room, similar to the one where Blake’s broken body had lain, but the bed is empty. The lifeless body of Carol Carter had been removed just minutes before. The same doctors who had declared Blake dead are standing in front of Randy, blocking him from exiting.
“She fell down the stairs,” Randy says through gritted teeth, balling his fists. He is trying to appear menacing, but he’s terrified. Terrified because he knows that the doctors are not buying his story. Terrified, because he knows what they can do with this information.
“There isn’t a court in the world that would believe that,” the blonde doctor says with a cruel smirk. “If you’re lucky, you’ll get life, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you get the death penalty.”
“There hasn’t been a death penalty in years, asshole.”
“The repeal doesn’t apply to crimes committed prior to 2009,” the dark haired doctor informs him with a look of disgust. “There is enough evidence here, going all the way back to the mid-nineties, that I am certain we could get a special trial.”
“I already said you could have her body. What else do you want from me?”
“We don’t make deals with murderers, Mr. Lawson.”
The scene fades into another. A courtroom, the jury has just passed a verdict of guilty. Because they could not agree on evidence connecting him to murders prior to the death penalty repeal, the judge sentences Randy to life in prison, with no chance for parole.
Prison is a dangerous place for Randy, filled with both former rivals and allies, all of whom know he had a hand in their getting caught in the first place. It takes only three months before a brutal attack is carried out and he is beaten nearly to death.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Lawson.”
Randy awakes in a hospital bed after the prison attack. Above him hover the faces of the doctors.
“What do you want?”
“Your cooperation,” the dark haired doctor informs him.
“I thought you don’t make deals with murderers?”
“We don’t,” says the blond doctor with a malicious grin, “however, we have no qualms about dealing with the recently deceased.”
“I am not dead.”
“On the contrary, I signed the death certificate myself, this morning.”
“You can’t make me do nothing.”
Randy begins to panic when he realizes he is strapped to the hospital gurney, unable to move.
“You are correct,” the doctor says. “We cannot make you do anything at all. However, if you fail to cooperate, we can and will finish what your fellow inmates began.”
“But if you do cooperate,” the other doctor adds, “we can make it worth your while.”
“Keep talking,” Randy says, hoping they mean to keep him from going back to prison.
“Mr. Lawson, we are conducting a very important experiment for the government’s anti-terrorism effort. So far, our trials have provided us with valuable information, but occasionally, we experience minor setbacks. One of our subjects has managed to go rogue. Your assignment is to find and kill him.”
“And in return?”
“In return, we will provide you with a life you have never imagined,” the blonde doctor says. “Everything and anything you could ever want, need, or desire will be yours, as long as you continue to cooperate as an agent for the effort.”
“Failure to do as we ask,” the other doctor adds, “and you will forfeit your life.”
In his greed, the idea of questioning the doctors’ outlandish claims does not cross Randy’s mind. He readily agrees to find and kill the subject. The dark haired doctor prepares to inject him with the contents of a very large needle.
“What are you doing?”
“Sending you after the rogue,” the doctor says as he plunges the needle into Randy’s arm. “Find and kill Blake Carter.”
Renee sat up slowly and processed what she had just learned. So they were part of a government experiment. Her stomach sank at this revelation. Sure, it might still be possible to escape, but would there be anywhere they could go and still be safe? Maybe she could apply to schools overseas or convince her parents to move to Canada, but what about Blake?
“Oh my god, Blake…” she whispered into the dark emptiness. Her insides twisted as the images of his mother’s broken body flashed again through her mind. Though she didn’t want to have to be the one to tell him that his mother was dead, killed by the monster that was trying to kill them, she was grateful at least that he would never have to see it as she had.
At last, she gathered enough energy to pull herself up. With a deep breath, she reached for the door, but before she could re-enter Blake’s mind, the world pitched sideways and Renee felt her feet leave the ground. She found herself being pulled upward, as if gravity had suddenly reversed. Just as suddenly, there was a jarring sensation and she was lying on her back, squinting up at a bright light shining in her face.
“Welcome back, Mr. Lawson.”
Renee’s blood ran cold and a panicked fear squeezed around her chest as she realized she was strapped down to a hospital bed, unable to move. As her eyes became adjusted to the light, she knew exactly where she was. The two doctors stood on either side of the bed, staring down at her with neutral expressions. This was no memory. She was awake, and she was occupying the body of Randy Lawson.
“Huh? Why am I back?” she mumbled, wincing as her words came out in Randy’s nasal twang.
“You’ve failed,” the blonde doctor said with a condescending smirk.
“How?”
“The rogue is still alive,” the other doctor said with a sideways glance. Renee followed his gaze and suppressed a gasp.
His head had been shaved to accommodate the electrodes that were stuck to his scalp. Tubes ran from his face and arms, which were the only parts of his body not covered with a thin hospital sheet. He was extremely thin, almost skeletal, but Renee knew immediately that she was looking at Blake. Rather, she was looking at what was left of Blake’s physical body, and it broke her heart.
Beyond him was another bed and though she could see the wires and tubes leading to it, Renee could not see who was lying there. But she didn’t have to see anything to know that her own broken shell of a body occupied the bed. She was glad she couldn’t see herself. Being inside the body of a dangerous criminal was bad, and seeing Blake’s body was worse, but seeing herself would have likely broken Renee’s mind beyond recovery.
She felt a hand on her arm and turned back. The blonde doctor was preparing to stick her with a needle.
“What are you doing?” she asked, trying to keep the panic from her voice.
“Are you really so stupid that you need me to spell it out for you?” the doctor sneered. “You had your chance, Mr. Lawson, and you failed.”
“Send me back!” she sputtered, realizing that they intended to kill Randy. Because she was occupying his body, Renee wasn’t sure what would happen to her, but she didn’t
want to take her chances on surviving. “Give me another chance.”
“Second chances are not factored into our data set,” the doctor informed her in a cold, mechanical voice as he jabbed the needle into Randy’s arm. “Goodbye, Mr. Lawson.”
Blake! Renee reached out with her mind, her heart hammering in her chest. Help me!
An icy sting coursed through her veins and she called out again, panicking as Randy’s body went numb around her.
Blake!
Renee!
Relief washed over her as she heard his voice, just as terrified and panicked as hers, echo in her head.
Where are you? He called out.
I’m trapped! She shouted. I need you to send Randy back into his head!
There was a prolonged moment of silence and Renee’s vision began to cloud and her breath was coming in short, shallow gasps. She was dying. No! she thought. Not yet!
Please! Blake, hurry!
Renee, the cage! Blake’s voice was filled with desperation as he realized Renee’s security precaution had unwittingly defeated them. How do I get him out?
His voice was becoming muffled and distant. Responding took more and more effort as she floated further out of consciousness.
Touch… it… touch… the cage, she thought.
Blake put both hands on the golden cage and flinched as the bars exploded once again into a flock of fiery birds.
Blake…
Her voice was growing fainter and Blake noticed that the phoenix on his shoulder was fading from its brilliant shades of red to a dull brownish orange. Without another thought, he grabbed the unconscious body of his stepfather and threw the both of them through the now flickering door.
The descending fog spiraled around Renee, creating a whirlpool effect and she was pulled downward. As she fell, darkness enveloped her, but the weightless feeling fell away and she slammed into the ground. Standing up, she let out a sigh of relief as she realized she was back under. Next to her, Randy’s body began to flicker out of existence and she knew they needed to get out of his head fast.
“Blake, come on! We need… Oh no!”
Renee looked down and her heart nearly stopped beating. Next to Randy was Blake, crumpled into the fetal position, his face twisted in tormented agony as his stepfather’s memories ambushed his mind. She knew she would be unable to move him until the memories stopped, but she didn’t know if either of them would survive that long. Already, the door had faded to a faint outline in the darkness. The fog that had clouded her waking vision had begun to descend around them, augmenting the emptiness and their need to leave.
As if sensing her desperation, the two birds, now a dull, muddy color and missing most of their feathers, took flight, heading for the dull glow in the distance that Renee recognized as Randy’s dying mind. As they dove into the center, there was a brilliant flash of light and Renee nearly fell to the ground as a sharp pain stabbed at her chest. But as quickly as it came, it was gone. More importantly, Blake’s eyes snapped open. With no time to contemplate what had just happened, Renee grabbed Blake’s arm and dragged him through the almost invisible portal.
They tumbled back into the lush, verdant world that Renee had created in Blake’s mind, collapsing as their bodies regained solid form. Renee sat up in time to see two small, flaming meteors rocket out from the portal, just seconds before it disappeared completely, signaling Randy Lawson’s passing. She crawled over to the smoldering crater at the edge of the pond and watched in fascination as the molten stones disintegrated into ash, revealing two small, but brilliantly colored flaming birds.
“I guess it’s a good thing you chose to make them phoenixes.”
She turned to see Blake, still somewhat pale, lying on his stomach with his chin resting on his hands as he stared at the two phoenix chicks.
“I didn’t,” she admitted quietly. “Consciously, at least. I think that was part of the whole protector business.”
“Well, it was a good idea either way,” he said as he got up and walked away from the pool.
Renee stood as well, unsure of what, if anything she should say. She never intended for Blake to find out the truth in such an awful way. Had she realized at the time, she would have told him to send Randy’s body through alone. Of course, she couldn’t fault herself completely. She was dying and she did the only thing she could to survive. Still, she felt responsible.
“Blake,” she called out. “I’m sorry… I…”
Blake stopped, but didn’t turn around. “I… I think I just need to be alone for a little while,” he called back before continuing to walk further into the forest.
“Of course,” Renee replied quietly as the door to her own mind opened in front of her. “You know where to find me… If you need me.”
Chapter 20
In Blake’s mind, Carol Carter was no more his mother than Randall Lawson was his father. While she did give birth to him, Carol gave up the right to call herself a mother when she chose addiction, both to drugs and her abusive partner, over her son’s basic needs and wellbeing. He should have been indifferent, happy even, that both of his tormentors were now dead. But as the image of his mother, head bent at an unnatural angle and lying at the bottom of the stairs, burned into his memory, Blake lost his composure and collapsed, grief-stricken, to the ground.
Crying was something he hadn’t allowed himself to do in years. Any sign of weakness had just made his punishments worse, so at far too young an age, Blake had learned to bottle his emotions and ignore the pain. Letting go of his inhibitions wasn’t easy. For several minutes, he just held himself in a ball, shaking silently, and feeling as if the pressure building up inside of him might make him explode. When he did finally let go, with an anguished howl that echoed through the forest, it did feel like an explosion. Convulsive spasms rocked his body and the flood of tears blurring his vision seemed never ending.
By the time his body gave its last, heaving tremor, Blake’s muscles were so weak from the exertion that he lay on his back, unable to move. His throat hurt and his voice had long since given way to a harsh, hoarse croak. Both his eyes and nose were red, swollen, and raw. He felt completely empty. The pain wasn’t entirely gone, but it was dulled considerably. Drained, both physically and mentally, he fell almost immediately into a dreamless slumber.
Renee managed to close the connection, giving Blake some much-needed privacy, but not before hearing his anguished cries as he relived his mother’s death. It took all of her resolve not to run back into his mind and comfort him. Instead, she curled up in a soft bed of grass and held the tiny phoenix close to her heart, gently stroking its feathers, and whispering words of comfort that she hoped would translate into a sense of calm for Blake.
Her mind wandered back to the image of Blake lying in the hospital bed and her heart sank. She began to have doubts that her plans for escape were in their best interest. Blake was paralyzed. The muscles that he did have were clearly atrophied from more than two years of disuse. She looked down at her own scars, the ones she imagined she might have, and wondered if she could endure disfigurement, or if she was sentencing herself to a life of chronic pain.
Was living in a dream reality really so bad? They no longer had to run, jumping from dangerous world to dangerous world now that they had discovered how to protect each other. Of course, the doctors could pull the plug on them at any time, but Renee began to wonder if it even mattered. Wouldn’t living out the rest of their days, no matter how brief, in a world of their own creation, provided for with everything they could possibly ever imagine, be better than returning broken to a world of uncertainty?
Blake awoke in a hammock strung between two tall pine trees. In the distance, a familiar boat bounced gently next to a wooden dock. Behind him, a middle-aged couple lounged on Adirondack chairs, set on the wide deck of a cozy log cabin-like house. The hammock rocked suddenly and Blake felt a soft pressure on his chest. He looked down and saw an unfamiliar tabby cat making itself at home on his t-shirt. As Blak
e reached down to pet the cat, she lifted her head slightly, revealing hazel eyes that were more human than they should have been.
“Did you do this?” he asked in a murmured whisper, trailing his hand from the top of her head down to the tip of her tail. Her only reply was a rhythmic purr as she snuggled into the crook of his neck.
It wasn’t real, of course. Blake tried to push the truth from his mind, but a vice squeezed around his heart. Piper’s Bend was the only place he had ever felt safe. It was also the only place he ever felt loved, which said so much about the kindness of his grandparents. They had every right to hate him, to resent his very existence, because if it wasn’t for Blake, their own son might still be alive.
Blake Harris was only seventeen when he died, thrown from his car as he lost control on a hairpin turn. Miraculously, the passenger, sixteen-year-old Carol Carter, had survived with nothing more than a few bruises. It was at the hospital, after the accident, that it was revealed that Carol was three months pregnant. They had been arguing about the pregnancy when Blake lost control of the car.
Upon discovering that Carol’s own parents had turned their back on their daughter, Jean and Martin Harris took her in, offering to help both financially and with raising their grandson, provided she remain in school. With their help, Carol was able to attend classes without worrying about daycare for her son. She named him Blake, after his father, but insisted upon giving him her last name, despite his grandparents’ protests.
It was in her senior year that the stress of being a teenage mother finally wore on Carol. She grew resentful of her friends and the freedoms that were afforded to them. She no longer cared about pep rallies and school spirit, and she certainly didn’t care about homecoming and prom, knowing that no one would ask her anyway. It wasn’t long before she was skipping classes to get high with her new friends in the woods behind the school. For Carol, it wasn’t an act of rebellion or even recreational. Drugs were her one escape from the situation that she felt she was unfairly forced into.
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