by J. A. Huss
Adam was there off to the side. By himself. Adam is like me. He’s a little bit older, but we’re cut from the same cloth. Both of our fathers died doing a job five years ago.
Don’t you dare interrupt me. I’m not talking about that tonight. I only mention it because I’m making a point that we’re the new generation of Company kids and… I’ve noticed that all the other kids my age, and Adam’s age, we’re not as committed as the generation that came before us. We like the money and the privilege, but the price is high. We understand this and the world has changed so we’re not as comfortable with it as… say… our parents were.
We’re looking to make changes and I had heard that Adam was involved with something regarding this change a few years earlier. And to me, that meant that he was not there to buy you for the wrong reasons.
OK. Wait. I have to interrupt. What reasons? Like… what are the bad ones and what are the good ones?
Maybe I should clarify. All the reasons you buy someone are wrong, Indie. All of them. So Adam is not some kind of saint. He’s just as guilty as anyone. Including me. But… what he did… if he really did that… I mean… I respect the guy for that shit.
What shit?
We’re not gonna talk about that today, either. Maybe, when you get older, I’ll tell you everything. But not today. And don’t make that face at me. You’re ten years old.
But when? When will I be old enough?
After you finish your first job I’ll come back and—
No. No, no. Wait. You’re not coming back until then? Donovan—
I didn’t mean it that way. I’ll be back once a month. Adam and I agreed on three months at first, but it’s clear you need more consistent guidance. So once a month.
For how long?
How long will I stay? Or—
How long will you keep coming?
For as long as you want.
You promise?
Indie Anna. I’m trying to tell you things right now. Do you want to know them or—
I do. Just… I need you to keep coming back forever. Like… that’s not even a joke. For. Ever. Donovan. I mean it. Once a month forever.
Fine. I promise I will. Anyway… of all the men there that day at the auction Adam was the only one I knew who would take care of you. He wasn’t interested in you the way the others might be. And don’t ask me to explain that, because I won’t. Ever. It makes me fucking sick just thinking about it. So I made sure he saw you the way I saw you.
You’re smiling. Why are you smiling?
Because you see me.
I see you. And I’m trying to help you. Because while this situation with Adam and McKay is better, it’s not… the best. It’s just… you’re different, Indie. You’re not like other people. None of us are. We don’t fit in anywhere but in the world of the Company. Adam was… he’s just a lot like you. More than you understand right now. I know he looks like he’s in charge, and as far as you’re concerned, he is. But he’s not. His mind is… OK. I’m getting too far off track here. What I really want to say is this. They’re going to make you do things. Dangerous things. And you have to follow Adam and McKay’s directions and rules because they really do know what they’re doing. I’m coming here to talk to you because I like you, but I’m also coming here to talk to you because Adam is paying me now.
I thought you said he wasn’t your boss?
He’s… he’s not. Not really. He’s just paying me to help you. That’s all. Because he knows we were friends back on the island and I took a liking to you.
I like you too.
Thanks. So that brings me back to my question. Did you get enough information from me? Or do you need more before I can ask it?
Go ahead. It’s your turn, I guess.
OK. Tell me why you’re here with Adam and McKay.
You just explained it.
Indie Anna.
Fine. I’m here to be their… I don’t really know if there’s a word for it.
Explain it. Then if there is no word, we’ll make one up.
I’m here to… clean things up.
Go on.
Kill people who get in the way.
Not yet, though. Your first job is to…?
Learn how to do that.
Correct. You’re in training right now. But one day you will be sent to clean things up. Adam will get orders from the Company and he will have to take care of people. Problem people. Dangerous people. Now listen, not all of those jobs will require your help. Adam and McKay will do some of them. All of them, until you’re ready. But one day… one day they will ask you to take care of things only you can do. And you must follow orders. Exactly as they are given to you.
Just… kill people?
Maybe. Maybe not. It depends on what needs to be cleaned up.
Are all of the girls from the auction going to be cleaners like me?
No. None of them will be like you. They’re… doing other things.
…
OK.
You promise?
I promise. As long as you don’t miss a visit. Not even one, Donovan. I’m serious. I will go live in the woods again if—
You stay out of those woods. There are dangerous things in there.
There are dangerous things in this house too, Donovan.
Point. But…
No. I love the woods. And Nate is in the woods.
That kid… he’s not one of us, Indie. You don’t want him involved in this shit. Trust me. It won’t end well.
But he’s my only friend.
I’m your friend. McKay is your friend. Even Adam is your friend. He might not seem like it now, but he’s on your side. We’re all on your side. And we want you to get through this.
I don’t think Adam is my friend. I make him yell.
Yeah, but… he’s doing it out of concern. He sees you as a little sister.
Ha. He does not.
Trust me. He does. After he bought you, we had to go out to the yacht for paperwork and shit. There was a private party out there too. And the new owners get to choose what their girls will be dressed like when you leave. And Adam put you in shorts and a t-shirt for a reason.
I don’t understand. What does that have to do with anything?
One day you’ll get it. But for now, just… trust me.
Are we done now?
Sure. We’re done.
SESSION #1 NOTES
SESSION #1 NOTES
Indie Anna Accorsi presents as a bright ten-year-old girl with very little concern for the reality of her situation. She comes off as desensitized and distant. Almost unable to connect herself with what is really happening to her.
In a way, this is helpful. She has learned to cope with her life in a way that makes her both likeable and reasonable. Contrary to what Adam believes, she is reasonable. Her decision to take off into the woods upon arrival at Old Home was a way of asserting control over a situation in which she felt powerless.
Noting her preoccupation with my ‘abandonment’ back on the island during our first session, her actions after coming to Old Home are logical and expected.
When I examined her bedroom, I found the screen had been ripped open. She felt trapped up in the bedroom. Probably due to the fact that Adam locked her in.
And when I observed the roofline outside her window, as well as the old tree bumping up next to the edge, her escape was inevitable and obvious. Also preventable, had Adam seen the tree and roof for what they were.
An invitation to escape.
The tree was convenient, possibly fortuitous, and—depending on her view of fate and destiny, if she has one—maybe even a sign that this opportunity was given to her as a gift.
A way out was presented and she took it.
I think her improvisation skills, in combination with a sense of self-preservation, will be an asset in the future once she is working.
However, as a friend, and not her pseudo-doctor, I am very concerned about her mental state.
All Comp
any kids learn to cope early and most of the time this does not turn out well once they reach their late teens.
The most famous case being James Fenici who, while on his first job, was captured by a Central American drug lord and tortured until his unauthorized rescue years later. He survived, but it had dire consequences on his psyche and he was certified insane by Company PSYOPS just a few months later.
Normally, that would be the end of it. James Fenici should’ve been put down. But he, like myself and Adam, is an Untouchable. To his credit, he successfully completed more than a decade on the job after that, but was involved in the death of almost three hundred Company members during an incident in Santa Barbara, California, five years ago.
His current status and whereabouts are unknown. As is his state of mind.
It is my desire to help Indie Anna Accorsi navigate her way through her working life and I will keep my promise to visit her monthly for as long as I can.
SESSION #1 NOTES - PRIVATE
The main purpose of this study is to internally assess the ongoing viability of the Company Zero Program. The Company’s official statement is that it’s a failure. But not all the graduates had to be put down.
Nick Tate is still working, James Fenici hasn’t gone completely insane yet, and Sasha Cherlin is living a normal life as a Colorado teenager.
The secondary purpose of this study is to get closer to McKay and Adam and assess the outcome of their premature withdrawal from the Negative Program.
McKay presents a completely sane, under-control, almost thoughtful twenty-two-year-old male with one exception: He is bound to Adam in ways I don’t quite understand.
Is this loyalty?
Guilt?
Shame?
Or mind control?
I don’t have enough information on that yet.
After Indie’s regular session I made my first hypnosis attempt. On a scale of one to ten I would rate this session a five. She went under without drugs, but it wasn’t deep. Indie’s previous PSYOPS operator’s notes indicate that she was unwilling to submit to training of any kind. They used many different techniques on her with little success.
I can’t say for certain that Indie hasn’t been put under before, but my limited educated guess is that if she has been, it was probably not productive.
Either that or they wiped her.
In this first session my only goal was to assess her reaction. I asked her very basic questions. Name. Age. Date of birth. She answered them all without fuss. But when I asked about Carter she showed no signs of distress to indicate he had been involved in her training.
Which is frustrating and disappointing.
Maybe I was wrong?
Maybe this whole thing is a waste of time?
CHAPTER FIVE - McKAY
PRESENT DAY
Indie is always with me. Even when she’s not.
She is my world.
And if taking it all back means she never came home to us here in Louisiana, then I don’t take it back. Not even a little bit.
It’s selfish, but I don’t care.
She is mine. I raised her. I took care of her. I taught her how to survive.
And maybe it wasn’t enough, but it kept her alive this long.
So I did something right.
“Are you ready to get out?”
I get a long, soft sigh as a response.
“I’ll get you some clothes.”
I get up and walk out of the bathroom and into the small bedroom before I sigh as well. We’ve been here before. So many times. And every single time I say to myself, I can’t do it again. I just… can’t do it again.
And each time I do it. And we come through it.
Because that’s the only thing we can do.
Get past it. Move on.
But this time feels different.
She pulls the bathtub plug and the sound of water rushing down the drain fills the small apartment. “Did you call Donovan?”
“No. Not yet.”
“Are you going to?”
“Sure.” I open a drawer and pull out a pair of sweats and t-shirt that says ‘Babette’s on the Bayou’—a tavern that has, somehow, become my local haunt.
When I turn around Indie is standing in the doorway wrapped up in a towel. And I swear to God, I lose my breath.
She was a pretty child but as a woman she is beautiful. She just doesn’t know it.
“Are those for me?” She points to the clothes in my hand.
“Yeah.” I throw them to her and she catches both with one hand. “I’ll let you get dressed.” Then I push past her and go back to the living room.
“Call Donovan. I need to talk with him.”
“I will. But I can’t promise anything. He doesn’t really answer my calls these days.”
“He’s too busy being a fancy plastic surgeon in LA?”
“I guess. But I’ll give it a try.” I grab my phone off the small dinette table and flip through my contacts to find his name, then press send.
It rings. And rings. And rings…
“This is Dr. Couture. I’m not on call at the moment, so if this is a medical emergency please call nine one one or find your way to the nearest emergency room. If this is personal, please leave a message.”
“Donovan… uh.” I turn away from the bedroom and lower my voice. “I need you to call me. Indie is here and she needs to talk with you.” I hesitate. I have a lot more to say to this guy, but… probably not the best time to get into all that. So I just end the call.
“He didn’t pick up?”
I spin around and see Indie standing in the hallway. Leaning against the wall like she was listening.
She’s already dressed. The clothes are far too big for her. But she absently ties a knot in the extra length of the t-shirt and cinches it tight until her belly is showing above the folded-over waistband of the pants. The elastic around the ankles has been slipped up to her knees and the overall effect of all these alterations is one of familiarity.
Indie, age sixteen. Happy, seemingly well-adjusted teenager. God. I wish I could go back in time and do it all again.
“No. But he’ll call back. Don’t worry. Are you hungry?”
She sighs again. This time loudly. “Sure.”
“Go sit down. I’ll warm up some pizza for you.”
“You don’t have to feed me like a kid, McKay. I’m not your responsibility anymore.”
“You’re always gonna be my responsibility, Indie.”
She goes into the kitchen, opens the fridge, and helps herself to a Ziploc bag of leftover pizza. Doesn’t heat it up, or even bother to get a plate. Just takes the whole baggie over to the couch and flops down. Two seconds later she’s shoving cold pizza in her mouth and smiling at me.
She thrusts the baggie in my direction. “Want some?”
“Nah.” I walk over to the chair opposite her and sink into it. Rest my elbow on the arm and prop my head up with my hand as I watch her eat. “I went out to eat earlier.”
“I know.” She chews. “I saw you.” Then she tugs at her t-shirt and says, “You ate here. Burger, well done. And fried pickles on the side. That shit will kill you, ya know. Is Babette your special friend?”
I can’t tell if she’s joking, or jealous, or angry. “Did you see Babette?”
“I didn’t get anyone’s names, if that’s what you’re asking.” And when she says this her acquired Southern accent is more pronounced.
“She’s like eighty-seven years old.”
“So you’re not into her?” She says this around a mouthful of pizza, trying to hide her smile.
Joking then.
“No. I’m not.”
“Good to know. God, I’m so hungry. When was the last time I ate?”
“How long have you been watching me?”
“Why? Does it make you nervous?”
“No,” I lie. “Just asking.”
“Hmmm.” She chews. “About ten days?”
Ten. Fucking.
Days. She’s been stalking me for ten days and I never saw a thing.
“I’m damn good at my job.” Her words echo my thoughts.
“I know. You learned from the best, right?”
“Past your prime now, old man.”
“Don’t underestimate me, Indie.”
“I’m joking. God. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you think I’m hiding a shank in my sweatpants.”
“Where did you put the gun?”
“Somewhere safe. Don’t worry. Why? You got kids or something?”
“Do you think I have kids?”
She stuffs more pizza in her mouth as her answer.
My phone rings on the table and I’m way too happy to hear that sound, because I jump up and cross the room before it gets to the end of the Ramones ringtone. I tab accept and say, “Hey. Thanks for calling me back.”
“Put it on speaker,” Indie calls from the couch. “I want to hear everything.”
I turn away from her, ignoring her request. “I need you, Donovan. Now. How soon can you get here?”
“Hi, Donovan!”
“He says hi,” I tell Indie back. Even though Donovan hasn’t said a fucking word yet. Not even hello. A few beats of silence on the other end of the phone. “Donovan? You there?”