Sanctuary Bay

by Laura Burns

  “She was terrified by what was being done to her,” Sarah said. “I’m not sure she even recognized us. I don’t think she meant to hurt me—or anyone. She just wanted to get free.”

  “That must have been hard to watch,” Dr. Diaz said. “Have you ever seen a patient being treated, Dean?”

  Dean Farrell shook her head.

  “I’ve only read about the protocol myself,” Dr. Diaz went on. “I know the patients have no memory of the treatment afterward. But I can’t say I blame these two for wanting to put a stop to it.” It felt good to have an adult taking their side. Sarah still wasn’t used to that.

  “I don’t understand why Izzy had some kind of chemo port in her neck—” Sarah began.

  “We can’t discuss a patient’s medical situation with anyone other than their parents,” the dean interrupted. “You’ve already compromised the treatment so much that we may have to end it.” She looked from Ethan to Sarah, disappointment creasing her face. “And that’s a shame, because it was proving to be extremely effective.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sarah said, especially if she’d ended up hurting Izzy worse. “I am. But I don’t get what you were doing to her.”

  “And you don’t need to ‘get’ it,” Dean Farrell said. “It’s none of your business, and you weren’t supposed to be anywhere near that room anyway. And once there, you ignored the warnings of a medical professional, and you attacked him.”

  Sarah slumped back in her chair, feeling sick. The dean was going to kick them out of Sanctuary Bay. She’d never find out if Izzy was okay or what really happened to Karina. Ethan would never find out what happened to Philip. They were done.

  “I didn’t attack him.” She tried to keep her voice calm as she explained. “He grabbed me to pull me away from Izzy, and I kicked him so that I could help her. I thought he was hurting her.”

  “And the security guard?” Dean Farrell asked.

  “Izzy did that. I tried to pull her off him,” Ethan put in. “She bit me.” He gestured at the blood on his sleeve. “And she kicked him. Knocked him back into a medical cart she’d tipped over. She took out half the office before she, uh, went unconscious.”

  The dean sighed heavily. Her mouth crooked as she chewed on her lip, destroying her bright red lipstick. What was she thinking? Was she about to call Sarah’s social worker and tell her to make arrangements for a new foster home? Would it go in her record that she’d attacked someone? Who would take her if it did? “Ramon, are you sure Isobel will be all right?” Dean Farrell finally asked.

  “Yes. She’s resting comfortably,” Dr. Diaz answered.

  Dean Farrell nodded decisively. “Sarah, you know we here at Sanctuary Bay have always believed in you. Ethan, we believe in your potential too, although you seem to find that hard to stomach,” she said. “But today’s behavior is utterly unacceptable.”

  “Sarah was only trying to help,” Ethan protested, not mentioning himself.

  “And that’s why I’d like to give her a second chance. You too, Ethan,” the dean said. “But only on the condition that you stop this sort of nonsense immediately. You must respect the privacy of your classmates, do you understand? The treatment area is strictly off-limits. You’re not even to speak of it.”

  “Of course,” Sarah replied. She wasn’t used to being given second chances, but now that she had, she felt oddly ungrateful. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Dean Farrell was hiding something. Why had Izzy’s treatment seemed like torture? Wouldn’t such harsh tactics make someone with PTSD even worse?

  “No more leaving campus for any reason,” the dean went on. She turned to Ethan. “I know you’ve continued to do so, even though we’ve spoken about it before. If you want to stay here at Sanctuary Bay, you have to follow the rules. Both of you.”

  “Okay,” Sarah said. She shot a worried look at Dr. Diaz.

  “I’m sure she will,” Dr. Diaz added, putting his hand on Sarah’s shoulder.

  “And you? Are you going to behave?” Dean Farrell asked Ethan, eyebrows raised.

  Sarah expected him to say no, to take this chance to get thrown out, but he just gave a quiet “Yes.”

  “Very well,” the dean said, clearly dismissing them.

  Sarah started toward the door with Dr. Diaz and Ethan. “One more question, Sarah,” Dean Farrell called.

  They all turned back. “I’m concerned about your roommate Karina. Her cell has been offline for more than twenty-four hours. I checked with her teachers, and she hasn’t been to class. When was the last time you saw her?”

  Sarah took a deep breath. She could tell the dean everything. That she’d seen Karina shot, maybe a prank, maybe not. That her friends seemed to be experiencing some kind of unshakable mass delusion. That Nate had begun talking nonsense. That she had no idea where else to look for Karina.

  She needed help, more help than Ethan and Dr. Diaz could give her. Dean Farrell could order the whole island searched, for starters.

  But Sarah didn’t trust her.

  “I can’t remember exactly,” she said. “When I woke up yesterday morning, she was already gone. I haven’t seen her since then. But we’re both busy. I don’t always see her that much.” She sounded like all the other members of the Wolfpack. Vague. Unworried.

  Dean Farrell held her gaze for a long moment. Sarah forced herself not to look away. Finally, the dean relaxed and smiled. “All right. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. Her cell is probably malfunctioning. If you see her, tell her to come to me for a replacement.”

  Dean Farrell gave her a little wave, as if they’d just been having one of their check-in chats.

  As if everything were normal.

  * * *

  “Just don’t strap me to the table, okay?” Ethan said as they walked into the waiting room of Dr. Diaz’s office. He had insisted on taking a look at the bite on Ethan’s arm, because “human bites can be nasty.”

  Sarah sat down in one of the chairs. There was really no reason for her to be there, but she wanted to strategize with Ethan when they were done.

  “Don’t you have a Vogue or something for Sarah?” Ethan asked.

  “Are you scared I’m going to give you a shot? Quit stalling,” Dr. Diaz said, heading for his office.

  “One sec.” Ethan rifled through the magazines on the end table and pulled out an old issue of Car and Driver.

  Sarah shook her head. “Funny.”

  Ethan leaned over to hand it to Sarah, whispering, “Try to find Izzy’s medical files while I’m in there.”

  Sarah gave a little nod as she flipped the magazine open. She wanted to see those files too. Maybe they’d explain what the Bromcyan was for. As soon as Ethan and Dr. Diaz disappeared into the office, shutting the door behind them, she jumped up. There were two other doors off the waiting room. The first was the bathroom, and the second was the records room.

  She darted inside, and closed the door quietly behind her. The room was really just a large closet. The walls were lined with filing cases from floor to ceiling with barely enough space to stand in the middle. She scanned the labels, trying to figure out how the files were organized. Alphabetically by year? Or everything together?

  “Don’t you know it’s illegal to look at private medical files?” a gruff voice demanded.

  Sarah jerked her head toward the door and then immediately relaxed. Ethan. He stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind him, which pushed him so close to her that they were practically hugging. “My Izzy bite is fine, thanks for asking,” he breathed into her ear.

  Sarah jumped, realizing that she hadn’t moved away from him. For one brief but charged moment, she stayed pressed against him, his body warm. She knew she had to step away, but somehow couldn’t force herself to do it.

  He’s Karina’s boyfriend, she thought, and that got her feet to move.

  “Diaz is still futzing around in his office. If we’re quiet, when he comes out he’ll think we both left,” Ethan told her. “I want to see what th
e files say about Izzy’s so-called treatment. I don’t care what the dean says, it was like something out of a horror movie.” He pulled open one of the file drawers. “Do you think we convinced the dean we’re going to be model students from now on?”

  “I hope so,” Sarah answered, checking a drawer, then closing it. “When I had my first meeting with her—and that wasn’t even two months ago—I never would have thought I’d be lying to her. All I wanted to do was impress her. But now I’ve turned into you, all paranoid and mistrustful.”

  “Which is why I’m a good influence on you,” Ethan said with a little smile. “Although you’ve always been mistrustful—just not of the school. You never trusted me.”

  Sarah hadn’t realized Ethan knew. “It wasn’t just you. I didn’t trust anyone here, not until I joined the Wolfpack.” But after Karina, she’d gone straight to Dr. Diaz and ratted them out, so maybe she didn’t really trust the Wolfpack, either. “Not trusting anyone is pretty much how I’ve survived,” she said quietly. “I was trying to change that here, to let go of all my old crap.”

  “Doesn’t sound like crap to me,” he replied. “But after what we just saw, anyone would be, should be mistrustful here. Gotta say, I’m not surprised Sanctuary Bay finds a violent medical treatment acceptable. Along with denying students access to help from outside. Oh, and disappearing them.”

  “I’m surprised,” Sarah said. But after what she’d seen happening to Izzy, she found it a lot more believable that Philip didn’t drown.

  “What was that thing going into the back of Izzy’s head?” Ethan asked. “Farrell said pulling it out might’ve caused brain damage, but she might’ve just said that to scare us.”

  “I have no idea. And why does she even need a medical port? It’s not like Izzy has cancer,” Sarah said. “Do you think it’s a coincidence that right when Izzy’s acting crazy and forgetting about shooting her roommate, the school is pumping drugs into her head?”

  “She’s been in therapy ever since she got here, though. The memory issue is new,” Ethan pointed out. “And your entire precious Wolfpack also has a convenient memory lapse about Karina. They’re not all in therapy.”

  Sarah sighed. “True. It’s just that one of the meds they had going in to her was Bromcyan. As part of my Wolfpack initiation, I was thrown into one of the POW cells under the school. The word “Bromcyan” was carved into the walls over and over. I had no idea what it was, then I saw a bottle of it when we were in the asylum.”

  “And you decided not to mention it?” Ethan burst out. “What the fuck, Sarah!?”

  “I know, I know,” Sarah said quickly. “See? Trust issues. I hadn’t told you yet that I was in the Wolfpack. And it didn’t seem important anyway, just weird, until I saw it on that computer monitor attached to Izzy.”

  Ethan turned back to the file cabinets. “We really need her file. And I want to look for Philip’s. And while we’re at it, why not Karina’s. Yours too.”

  Mine?

  “Don’t you wonder, Sarah?” he asked. “You’re the only one who remembers what happened. Your memory is resisting whatever they’ve done to the rest of the Wolfpack.”

  “But you just said yourself that the whole Wolfpack isn’t in therapy,” Sarah said.

  “Yeah, I know…” He sighed, frustrated. “I’m just trying to think it through.”

  Sarah frowned. “Dr. Diaz said Izzy wouldn’t remember her therapy. He said it looks scary but that the patient doesn’t remember it. You don’t think…” Her words trailed off.

  No, that’s too insane.

  “That the school is using the treatment on other people to erase their memories?” Ethan suggested.

  “But, it … it sounds crazy,” Sarah said.

  Ethan didn’t answer. He was staring at an open file. “I can’t find Philip. And my own file is empty except for the time I broke my arm. I’m going to grab Karina’s.”

  “If you’re at the ‘S’ files, Izzy’s should be near there. She’s a ‘T.’” Sarah moved over to his side and stood on tiptoe, scanning the letter stickers on each file folder. Ethan put his hand on the small of her back, helping her balance.

  She swallowed, forcing herself to ignore the little zing of electricity his touch gave her, trying to focus on finding the file quickly so she could move.

  “Izzy’s isn’t here,” Sarah said. “I guess they must have it with her in the infirmary.”

  “I don’t see Karina’s either,” he replied. Just the sound of him saying Karina’s name was enough to make that electric tingle evaporate. She shook off his hand a little faster than she meant to, and Ethan’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  The door flew open before Sarah could answer. Dr. Diaz stood there, glaring at them.

  “Crap!” Ethan cried, wrapping his arms around Sarah’s waist. He kicked the door closed. “We’re not, uh, entirely dressed.”

  Dr. Diaz pushed it open again.

  “Don’t you knock, man?” Ethan complained.

  Sarah was too stunned to move. Dr. Diaz rolled his eyes. “Do you think I’m an idiot? Sarah’s got better taste than to make out in a closet with you, Mr. Steere.”

  Sarah squirmed out of Ethan’s arms. “Are you going to take us back to the dean?”

  “No, although I don’t approve of you going through private medical records,” he answered. “Are you looking for Izzy’s?”

  They nodded.

  “Listen, I owe you guys an apology. What I said about Izzy in the dean’s office—I don’t quite know if it’s true.”

  “What?” Ethan exploded.

  “I wanted to get you two out of there, so I tried to sound knowledgeable about Izzy’s treatment, hoping the dean didn’t know more about it than I did,” Dr. Diaz said. “I’ve never been given actual details about the procedure.”

  “What do you mean? You’re the doctor,” Ethan said.

  “Not for the treatment,” Sarah reminded him. “That woman who came in was the doctor in charge, right?”

  “Exactly. I’m just here to give out antibiotics and pump stomachs,” Dr. Diaz said. “For anything else, the school brings in specialists.”

  “But still, you’re the one in charge of Izzy’s health,” Ethan pressed. “You knew she was getting some crazy experimental therapy.”

  “Yes, but I don’t administer it. Nor do I know any of the specifics,” Dr. Diaz insisted. “It’s not under the control of Sanctuary Bay. It’s a Fortitude project.”

  Sarah shot Ethan a questioning look. He shrugged.

  “There wouldn’t be anything about Izzy’s treatment in these files, anyway—Fortitude keeps their own,” Dr. Diaz said.

  “What about my brother?” Ethan asked suddenly. “Why aren’t Philip’s files here?”

  “When students graduate, we put their files in storage.” Dr. Diaz’s forehead creased as he thought about it. “I’ll take you. Follow me.”

  He took off so quickly that Sarah had to jog to catch up with him. They went out through the empty waiting room and down the hall to the closest stairwell. At the bottom were two doors—one leading outside and one that was marked FACULTY ONLY. Dr. Diaz pressed his finger against the keypad to the faculty door and it clicked open.

  The stairwell heading to the basement wasn’t nearly as well lit as the one above. Instead of marble, the steps were made of cement. At the bottom of the stairs was a short, nondescript hallway with three doors along the sides. Diaz went over to the second one on the right and opened it.

  “More unlocked doors,” Ethan murmured in Sarah’s ear as they followed.

  “Well, the whole stairwell is locked,” she pointed out.

  “It’s a mess,” Dr. Diaz told them, gesturing around the room. It was surprisingly large, with stacks of boxes and about twenty big, old-fashioned wooden filing cabinets. “Generally, the newer files are in the boxes, but every few years I make an attempt at organizing things alphabetically instead, because that’s how the ones in
the file cabinets are. So then I end up shoving newer files in with the older ones and vice versa. I should probably stop doing that.”

  Ethan went over to the closest box and began digging through it. Sarah turned to Dr. Diaz. “What’s Fortitude?”

  “It’s a company, the Fortitude Corporation. They’re a private contractor.”

  “What does that mean?” she asked.

  “It means they developed a treatment for PTSD and other mental disorders, and they’re in the testing phase. They partnered with Sanctuary Bay to do the trials,” Dr. Diaz replied. “Or, rather, Sanctuary Bay hired them to do the trials. The school gets a lot of mileage with wealthy parents because they offer cutting-edge solutions to psychological problems. We can’t do the research and development ourselves, so the school looks for promising companies to do it for us. Then we partner with them for clinical trials.”

  “But you’re a scientist,” Sarah said. “Don’t you want to be involved in any kind of—what is it, psychopharmacological?—experiment?”

  “I do,” he agreed. “But that’s not up to me. The Fortitude Corporation has its own protocols, and that doesn’t include school doctors.”

  “So, Dr. LaSalle, the woman Ethan and I saw, she works for Fortitude?” Sarah asked.

  “I guess. I’ve never seen her, or the treatment room.” He sighed. “Honestly, I’ve never given it much thought. They operate so separately from us. But the way you described Izzy’s therapy … it doesn’t sound right.”

  “You mean because she was strapped down like a victim on Dexter?” Ethan said with a snort.

  “Yes, but it’s more that. Sarah said there was a port in her neck. That’s extremely odd. Usually that sort of thing would only be used for chemotherapy or something similar, and it wouldn’t be in her neck.”

  “How do you know she won’t remember it? Or was that just something you said for the dean too?” Sarah asked.

  “I’m positive. I found traces of midazolam in her blood work. Midazolam is a drug that’s used to induce amnesia after medical procedures,” he replied.

  “What about Bromcyan? Is that a drug that messes with memory?” Sarah asked. She quickly gave him the rundown on the three places she’d seen the name.