As Dr. Bradburn watched, Dewey Leonard was dragged away by two men from the Tyranny. He was unsure if the men had just shown up or had always been waiting, lurking in the shadows. Because of the drugs he had been given, Leonard’s legs barely worked, and it took a man under either of his armpits to pull him down the hallway.
Even though the patient’s body wasn’t cooperating, he had his wits about him enough to know he was being taken away by the Tyranny’s men. His worst nightmare was coming true: he had risked his life to go back in time and change history, and instead he had been captured by the Tyranny. Bradburn heard the man offer groans and whimpers as he was carried down the hallway.
“That man,” the doctor whispered to Cooper, “is from the future?”
“It doesn’t matter if he’s from our time or a different time. What matters is that we caught another Thinker.”
“I don’t understand,” Bradburn said, unable to stop his next question. “Why would the Thinkers go back in time to... now? Why not go back in time fifty years or a hundred years if they actually wanted to make a difference?”
Agent Cooper looked at the doctor without speaking. As he did, the agent sucked on his bottom lip to show his impatience.
Finally, he shrugged, leaned in close so no one else nearby could hear, and whispered, “If you must know, we suspect their experiment didn’t work the way they intended. They must still be figuring out how the mechanics of time travel actually work. They probably meant to send him back further into the past, but what most likely happened was that he only went back in time a few days or weeks by mistake.” And then, smiling and rolling his eyes, he added, “I guess they aren’t so smart after all.”
“How did you know he was the Thinker?”
“It was easy,” Cooper said, regaining the machismo that had been plastered all over his face for the majority of the time he had been in Bradburn’s facility. “He was at Burnley Park. He went out of his way to seem the craziest when he was initially found. Smearing feces all over himself? He had to know when the AeroCams caught up to him that he would immediately be thought of as insane rather than a threat. And his plan almost worked. But then, when you asked the first round of questions, he gave himself away. The other two men really did seem crazy. Our third patient”—he motioned down the hallway in the direction Leonard had been taken—“suddenly didn’t want to say much of anything. I already had my suspicions, but that sealed it for me.”
Bradburn heard a noise behind him. Turning, he saw two more sets of men in black suits. Two were escorting Anthony Station out of the hospital. The other pair had Logan Ford by the arms and were taking him the same direction.
“They have the wrong men,” Bradburn said, grabbing Cooper by the arm. Then, seeing disdain appear on the agent’s face, immediately let go. “You have to stop them. You already found the Thinker.”
Agent Cooper brushed at the fabric of his suit where Bradburn had touched him, then said, “We found our Thinker, but laws are laws. Or, as you like to say, rules are rules. Right, doctor?”
“I don’t understand,” Bradburn said, getting ready to tell his staff not to let the men in suits take away two of his patients. “They’re”—lowering his voice—“crazy.”
“That may be the case,” Cooper said. “But they broke the law. After all, they did disparage the Tyranny.”
“But they need psychiatric help!”
Ignoring the comment, Cooper let out a sigh and shook his head. “Which brings me to my next issue.”
Bradburn felt the agent’s hand encircle his own hand, then press against the inside of his wrist so his palm moved toward his arm, which in turn moved behind his back.
“What are you doing?” Bradburn said.
Cooper held one of Bradburn’s arms behind his back. Then pulled the other to meet it. The doctor felt cold metal around both wrists, along with a clicking as the cuffs got tighter.
“What are you doing?” he said again.
“You tried to help a Thinker,” the agent said.
“He was a patient! I thought I was helping someone who needed the hospital’s care.”
Bradburn felt himself being ushered down the same hallway as the three patients who were already gone and would never be seen again. Over and over, he called to someone from his staff to help him. Each time, they looked away.
“It’s all a big misunderstanding!”
The few people on his staff who were still watching the scene all simultaneously seemed to remember they had a job to do and moved off to do it.
“I always did what the Tyranny wanted,” Bradburn shouted.
“Until you didn’t.”
“I didn’t know,” he said. “I swear, I didn’t know.”
But even as he said it, Bradburn was approaching the double doors and the black cars of the Tyranny that would take him away.
“Sorry, doctor. You tried to help a Thinker.” And then, laughing, “Rules are rules.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Chris graduated from Western Maryland College (McDaniel College). He currently lives outside Washington D.C. His dream is to write the same kind of stories that have inspired him over the years. His others novels have become Amazon Best Sellers and been featured on the Authors on the Air radio network.
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The Theta Patient Page 10