Patient: Crew (The Crew Book 1)

by Hannah Kaplan

  “Would you do me a favor?” he asked. He was calm, and his voice was low.

  “That would depend on what it is you want from me.”

  “That’s an honest answer and I respect you for it, but I still need you to do something for me.”

  “What is it you want?”

  “I want your opinion on something. Do you think I’ll get good press for this, for discovering you, Patient Crew I mean?” Every word he said had been well thought over. He was as serious as shit. In less than a month this man had slaughtered hundreds of people most of them children, I was speechless. It is an element of life on earth for which there is no understanding.

  “Both explosions, and all of the deaths have been reported continuously,” I said while forcing calmness to be my mainstay. “People all over the world are devastated, and afraid. You’ve caused sadness, deep sadness. It’s on every network, every news channel and all over the net. You’ve made the first page of every national newspaper. I would say the bombings are getting very good press, but no one knows who you are. They don’t know your name.”

  “When I deliver the results of my discovery they’ll all know my name. The whole world will know my name,” he said.

  “If they know your name they will hunt you down just to lock you up,” I said. “You may think you’ve trapped the crew, but they’ve trapped you right back. Your name is all over their writings. Your name, address even your phone number is written. And every time your name’s mentioned it’s in conjunction with the bombings. If you tell the world about me they will want to see me write. When they read what I have written they’ll know it’s you who did the bombings. Looks like you’re up against a brick wall.”

  “When you saw the news, did you cry for those babies?” Finneaus asked.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Neither did I,” he whispered. “Couldn’t take your eyes off the TV screen I’d bet. Everybody wants to see the blood.”

  “Can I ask a question?” I kept my tone calm. I wanted him to open up to me. I had read in some of Marla’s books that it’s better to remain friendly so that the crazy person in the room will trust you. Finneaus didn’t have an instant response. He rubbed his temple as if it were hard to let me in that place where his thoughts lived.

  “I think yes. You can ask me a question.”

  “Why did you do this?”

  “We should let him sleep,” he said. Kevin’s eyes were closed and appeared to be asleep, but his body was stiff and ready to jump in a moments notice. Albee would say he was playing ‘possum. This was my cue to keep Finneaus talking. “He’s had a tough day.” He looked down at his watch and tapped on the face. “Time is running out for a few more cradle lumps.”

  “You found me. You found the patient crew. You don’t need to kill anymore,” I said.

  “It has been written, it must be done.”

  “Why? What more would you gain?” I asked.

  “Gain?” Finneaus asked. “You think I do this for my own gain as if I get some sort of payment? I never gain from the experiments, and the dead are casualties of research and development. I do this because people aren’t listening. We have the cure for humanity right in front of our faces, but nobody listens. The patient crew has been speaking for years, and they still don’t listen. The army of our creator has started a draft and has begun to increase the ranks. My actions are noble. I have contributed to the army. We all have to make our sacrifices. We are all sacrificial lambs being led to the slaughter. We did it to ourselves, and now we all suffer alone in our misery. God does not cry for us.” Anger flooded his face as his voice rose. “I was just a child and he took it all away! Every moment that should have been a good memory he tainted. She did nothing to stop it, acted as if life were filled with sunshine and roses. We had comforts before they took him away. We had a fine house, a big car and lots of food. After they took the Doctor, she went away somewhere deep inside and rotted there. She even smelt rotten. Day and night, and night and day she would say it. Build me a bomb, go down to that courthouse and blow them all sky-high Buddy.” He stopped, took a deep breath and grinned at the distant memory. “That’s what she called me because we were buddies.”

  He began to breathe in deeply, hold it, and then release slowly. “I taught myself how to control the anger while I was in Juvenile hall. The same courthouse that sent the Doctor away, and the same one that she wanted blew to smithereens was the one that convicted me of her murder. They locked me up until my eighteenth birthday.”

  “Did you blow up your mom? Is that how she died?”

  “God doesn’t ask us to do more than what we’re capable of doing. I guess he made me able to do more than the average man. She was terribly mad when they took the Doctor. She wouldn’t stop nagging me about it day and night and night and day continually, build the bomb Buddy and we’ll show them. Never ending, from the time I woke up until the time I went to bed. She took me out of school because she thought they were a part of the broken system. When I answered a knock at the door and the man said we had to leave the only home we ever knew, well let’s just say that was the last straw that broke the camel’s ass,” he started to giggle, but stopped himself with the deep breathing exercise.

  “I hadn’t finished it. I sure as shit didn’t know it would kick that hard. I lit the fuse and ran for cover. The whole house went down. I was blown out the window, had to get over a hundred stitches in various places. It blew the windows out on the neighbor’s houses. People heard it from all around. I got page ten in the B section. When I got out of lockup, no one even remembered what had happened. It was like time had gone on and forgot about me. I’d have been better off in jail for life. At least in there when they hate you, they just kill you. Out here they ignore you. Tim ignored me. He never visited me and never wanted anything to do with me until he needed something—then he came sniffing around.”

  “What did you do for Tim?” I asked.

  “I was his mule,” his face grimaced at the memory. “I went all over the world carrying nothing but a zippered notebook. It looked like one of those trapper keepers the kids would use in school, but it had a zipper instead of Velcro flap. I was curious so I’d read what Tim had written in the notebooks while I was on the plane. He knew everything before any of it happened. Sometimes he knew days before and sometimes years before. He knew it all and it was always before.”

  “How did you know it was the crew?”

  “I asked, he told, I know,” he said. “He didn’t tell me the truth because it’s sitting in front of me. He didn’t tell me about you.”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “That a group of prophets called crew gave him the word. Once, he even showed me a page. Looked just like what you wrote. He left me without so much as a boo.” The morning sun began to break through the windows in the kitchen, and peek around the corner into the living room.

  “How did he leave you?”

  “Cut me off, and left me high and dry only wanting more. He wouldn’t return my phone calls and stopped paying my bills. I read the books as soon as they came out. I knew everything, but couldn’t get no one to listen. Everyone just laughed at me. We’ll see who laughs now.”

  “I want to make an agreement with you Finneaus,” I said.

  “What kind of agreement?”

  “I want you to let those people in the church live, and let Kevin leave. No more death,” I said.

  “What’s in it for me?”

  “The crew is all yours.” Kevin’s eyes popped open and glared at me.

  “Well now look who decided to join the party,” Finneaus said. “I for one enjoyed your absence.”

  “That’s the deal Finneaus don’t listen to anyone but me. Listen to what I’m offering you,” I continued my focus on him.

  “A contract? You’ll do what I say, willingly?”

  “Yes, whatever you want as long as you follow through with your part of the contract, no more death. What do you say?” I asked.


  “No,” Kevin yelled through the tape on his mouth making it sound more like “O.”

  “This is my choice Kevin. I promised Jade, and we can’t let him kill anyone else. We can’t let this continue.”

  “O,” Kevin was relentless. “O, o, o, o, o!”

  “You don’t have a vote,” I said and turned back to Finneaus. “Well? Do we have a deal?”

  “I don’t know. Give me a second here, I don’t know. I guess it could work. We would have to haul ass out of here and hide.” He stood and began to pace. “I have a place in mind. It’s a quiet place where we won’t be found out. I can’t say it out loud or Kevo here will follow us.”

  Kevin was making as much noise as he could. He tried to move to his knees, but his mangled foot wouldn’t let him.

  “It’s been written. What will happen if I change the course of what must be?” Finneaus asked. “The crew might get angry especially The Professor—he’s my favorite. I don’t want to make him mad at me.”

  “It takes courage to create change,” I said. “You can be the first to change the course.” Kevin continued to struggle with the tape on his mouth and hands. “Can we take the tape off his mouth?”

  “Es, es,” Kevin yelled.

  “Listen to me,” I was stern as I spoke to Kevin and looked in his eyes. “You have to be quiet or we’ll put double the amount across your mouth next time.”

  “You better listen to her,” Finneaus marched over to Kevin, and ripped the tape from his mouth. Blood oozed from his bottom lip. I quickly put my shirtsleeve against it and pressed hard.

  “I’ve got a feeling blondie here has changed sides Kevo.”

  Kevin started to talk, and I stuffed my shirt in his mouth.

  “Let’s do this deal Finneaus,” I urged.

  “What’s the rush?” he asked. “Haste makes waste. Besides, I need a little more information. I need to kick the tires before I buy this car.”

  “We don’t have much time; it’s already morning. You need to take the bombs out of that church before it is too late.”

  “But you said it yourself that no one knows who I am so what’s the rush? I don’t feel good about breaking the prophecy. They’ve called upon me, and I must follow through. What has been written must be done. First, the church and then we’ll leave.”

  “That’s not true Finneaus. They’ve only talked about the plans you’ve made. This has nothing to do with prophesy. You created it. You can change your mind change your plans.”

  “How do they talk to you?” he stopped pacing. I leaned against Kevin in an effort to keep him calm.

  “They don’t talk to me they talk through me,” I said.

  “Tell them to do it now,” Finneaus ordered.

  “It doesn’t work that way.”

  “Why?” he asked. “No deals until I know the history and physical.”

  “It’s not like having a conversation,” I said. “I have no control over them. They come and go as they please.”

  Finneaus stood up, fidgeted around, sat back down, and then stood up again. His smile was broad; his eyes shifted out of control as he began to understand the crew. “What about the way you write? With both hands and all because I have got to tell you that shit freaked me out. Do they control it? Is it like a possession?”

  “No, they don’t possess me I’m ambidextrous.”

  “So Kevbot here…” he started.

  “His name is Kevin,” I interrupted.

  “Ok, ok I get it. Kevin here is your assistant?”

  “I’m nobody’s assistant I can tell you that,” Kevin said. Finneaus reacted by lifting his boot, and aiming it at Kevin. I caught the boot mid stomp with the side of my arm, and he froze.

  “No more,” I said. “No more hurting that’s part of our agreement.”

  He didn’t speak. He simply lowered his foot and nodded his head.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “How long have you had them in you?” Finneaus asked.

  “Going on eleven years now,” I said. “It hasn’t been easy having something in my head that keeps me from doing what I want to do, and being who I want to be. You understand don’t you Finneaus?”

  His face relaxed as if the tension had been relieved in his muscles. “I do,” he said.

  “It’s like always having company, and all you want to do is lay on your bed, watch TV, and eat a bag of chips, right?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what it’s like. I wake up every morning and hope it’s empty in those rooms up there, but by breakfast the torture begins again. It’s all I can do most days just to remember to eat and shit with all the activity going on up there.” He hit his head with the palm of his hand.

  “I’ve written for days on end without a break. Sometimes when I wake up, I don’t even know what day it is.” He nodded as I spoke and I knew we had found a common ground. “That’s the part that makes me angry.”

  He sat on his knees in front of me rocking his body back and forth. After a few minutes he giggled lightly. I saw his face transform. The muscles tightened in his cheeks and his head twitched. He tapped his watch and giggled. “You almost had me there. I’ve seen more shrinks than I care to remember. I know all their tricks blondie. You are good though. You are good.” He stood up in front of us. “Let’s see what’s happening at the house of God.” After a few moves and clicks of the mouse the laptop screen lit up with a picture of the church.

  “Shall we start the count down?”

  “What about our contract?” I asked.

  “Oh that was a nice thought sweet pea but I already got you, and having you is having the crew. No, I think we will blow up the church, and then I think we will kill the big black man. And then we’ll complete the prophesy by blowing up the house, and a few others if my calculations are correct. I can almost guarantee they are.”

  “You better kill me you crazy prick,” Kevin warned.

  “Good golly gosh look at the big man trying to scare me. I’m so frightened,” Finneaus forced his body to shiver with his giggles.

  “If you do it I won’t write,” I said defiantly.

  “When this house blows, we’ll be twenty miles outside town and you will be writing.”

  “I won’t write.”

  “I’ll break your legs.”

  “I won’t write.”

  “I’ll kill you.”

  “I won’t write.”

  Finneaus started pacing. “You will write for me,” he screamed.

  “I won’t write, unless you make the deal and keep it.”

  “Let me talk to them now.”

  “It doesn’t work that way.”

  “I don’t care how it works. Fuck how it works. I want to talk to them face to face now. Right now.”

  “They don’t have faces only voices.”

  “Then voice to voice. Shit woman I don’t care just bring them out now. I want to talk to them.” He started pounding his head with his hands, and mumbling incoherent words under his breath. He was frantic, and then in an instant he stopped, brushed his hair back with his fingers, tucked in his shirt and faced me with his hands clasped in front of his body. “Miss Shanna,” he said meekly. “I’ll execute that contract, but I’ll need an amendment. I’ll need to speak to the crew first. Man to prophet. It’s my duty, and my right to test them.”

  “I can’t. I don’t know how to do that. I’m not lying to you.”

  Finneaus—defeated—walked down the hallway. He opened a door and I heard the sound of squeaking wheels rolling across the floor. He came back in the room pushing an old gurney.

  “I know you don’t care if I blow your head off you’re like me that way but I also know—for whatever reason—you’ll do anything to save your friend. Lets say we start with him.” He rolled the gurney to the center of the room, and locked the wheels. There was a sheet of plastic covering it, and a pillow at the head. “All I ever wanted was to meet them, know them. Looks like they don’t like me, same as everyone else. Same story differen
t chapter.”

  “They wrote about you,” I said. “They are why I am here. They are here with you. You’re asking them to do something they don’t do.”

  He went back down the hallway, and this time returned with a bag of salt so large he had to carry it over his shoulder. In his hand, he carried two buckets—one stuffed inside the other. He let the bag of salt fall to the floor and placed the buckets side by side under the head of the gurney. He pulled a rubber tube—it was probably three feet long—out of one bucket and laid it on the bed. “It’s not much different from preserving a deer. You bleed em, gut em, and stuff em with salt. Cover em up for a few weeks to catch any left over muscle fluids, and you got yourself a hunk of Kevin jerky.”

  “You have their writings,” I pleaded. “They wrote for you.”

  “All that’s there is a poem about some seed that came from a flower. Didn’t say a word about me didn’t mention my name, not even in passing. I don’t like The Poet. The Professor didn’t say a word not a word. Ignored me just like the rest of them.”

  “He didn’t ignore you. Give it time and they’ll come back.” He slowly walked to the bed covered with blankets and plastic against the wall. One at time, he lifted the coverings to reveal a sheet stained a brownish red.

  “Just in case you think I’m not capable,” he lifted the sheet that covered the upper part of Marla’s body.

  A white chalky cloud puffed out of her body, and wafted over his face causing him to gag and turn away. It was a briny smell that was similar to the smell of salty rot at low tide in Galveston. The first thing I saw was her hair. It was platinum blonde and thick as a horse’s mane. Her face was wrinkled like a grape that’d been turned into a raisin. Her body was dusted with a white powdery substance. I kept my eyes on the hair. It was the only part that still looked like Marla. Finneaus covered the body, turned to Kevin and pulled a gun from his belt. He cocked it and pointed the muzzle at Kevin’s good foot. “After that let’s go for a knee. I’ll keep shooting until he’s dead makes no never-mind to me. You get the picture?”