Mad, Mad World

by J. D. Sloane

  Alicia pressed her fingers against her forehead, wondering if she still had it in her to scream, if she wouldn’t just give up after a few minutes and curl up into a ball under the sink and then heard Matt let out a ragged sigh, his shadow spreading out along the tile as if he had stepped closer to the door.

  “I told you what he was, Alicia,” Matt said, the door sighing inward as she watched the frame near the lock. “Don’t you remember? I told you what he was like the day I gave you this story. I told you not to let yourself get played. Didn’t you listen? Didn’t you think of me even once?”

  “You’ve never even met him,” Alicia said, bracing her foot against the bottom of the door. “And I don’t have to explain anything to you. Leave now, Matt. And don’t come back until after midnight. I’ll leave my key on the table. Otherwise I start screaming for the police. Your choice.”

  Alicia placed her hand on the knob without turning it, half expecting Matt to throw his shoulder against the door frame and try to shatter it inward and then looked towards the floor as she saw his shadow recede, the door sighing back on its hinges as she heard him walk back into the hallway. She swallowed hard, her gold eyes darting across the top of the door frame frantically as she tried to figure out where he was heading and then flinched as she heard Matt march out the front door, slamming it behind him so violently she heard something fall off the wall.

  Alicia ran her tongue over her lips, dropping her hand from the door knob and then paced back and forth in front of the vanity, tapping her fingers against her arms as she forced herself to wait a full five minutes.

  It was always going to happen, she thought, pressing her lips together as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over the vanity. It was just a matter of time. As long as he got his way things were fine. But once I wasn’t having fun anymore, once I wanted just a little something more…

  Alicia made a low noise of dismay as she saw that her left cheekbone was already darkening into a thin, angry looking bruise and brushed her thumb across it as she stared at her reflection, the frantic surge of adrenaline in her veins settling into her stomach like a gut punch. She swallowed back angry tears as she heard her phone go off in the opposite room and heaved a deep sigh as she opened the bathroom door, pausing at the threshold as she saw the mess that Matt had left her.

  Alicia heard her phone stutter across the dining room table and almost convinced herself to ignore it before walking over to the table to pick it up.

  No problem. One hour. Where we discussed.

  Alicia looked at Emilio’s message, scrolling backwards to see when it had come in and then shook her head, her stomach lurching with panic as the desperation of her situation crashed over her like a wave of ocean water.

  She didn’t have anywhere to go. Not really. Alicia looked around Matt’s beautiful two-bedroom apartment, a place she had called home for the better part of a year and realized that he was right. She wasn’t on the lease. She wasn’t on any lease, anywhere. When it boiled down to the simple nuts and bolts of modern tenancy law, Alicia lived somewhere in that gray region between houseguest and roommate. For all intents and purposes, she was suddenly and inexplicably homeless, and in a situation this serious she realized that all the people she thought of as friends suddenly seemed a lot more like acquaintances. And certainly no one she would trust enough to confide in about something as private as this.

  That’s what I get for living a life of no retreat, she thought, chewing her bottom lip as she reread Emilio’s message a second time. Kicked out and homeless on the brink of the biggest news story this year. That sounds about right. All things considered.

  Alicia thought of her old college roommate and dismissed her, her panic crawling higher. She paused as she felt the tug of some old, unpleasant memory, the strange hammer of destiny sliding it into place as neatly as a linchpin and realized that there was still one place she hadn’t considered, and it was the last place in the world Matt would ever think to look.

  Change of plans, she typed quickly. I’ll meet you there. Two hours.

  She tapped her foot as she waited for a response and then turned on her heel, flicking the hallway lights on with one hand as her mind become a furious cyclone of activity. She reached for her suitcase, the worn leather strap on one side almost snapping as she swung it out of the closet and then paced back into the living room, setting it down on the rug as her phone let out a low ding.

  Tomorrow’s better. Around midnight?

  Perfect, Alicia typed, flicking her phone away from her as she dropped to her knees in front of the couch and began to sweep up her scattered notes with both hands.

  Alicia swore under her breath as she saw that Matt had destroyed at least one of her recorders and tossed both into the bag anyway, ducking her head below the couch as she swept her hand from one end to the other. For better or worse she was now absolutely on her own and she had no intention of leaving anything else behind.

  Ronan listened to the sounds of the infirmary around him and opened his eyes slowly, looking towards the gated guard station without moving his head. He glanced to his left in the darkness, his body stiffening as he felt the after quake of drugs they had pumped into his system and swung his wrist curiously for a moment, his jaw rolling with annoyance as he realized that he was zip-tied to some kind of long, leather chair.

  That’s right, Dula, he thought curling his wrists tightly before relaxing and repeating the whole exercise over again. Keep on letting those special cocktails of yours do your policing for you. They seem to be working out well so far. A few murders here and there notwithstanding.

  He noticed that the room itself seemed to be empty and craned his neck towards the end of the room as a shadow flickered across the ceiling and vanished, his brow furrowing as he noticed the locked red door at the end of a windowless wall.

  He closed his eyes as he thought of Nolan sitting on the other side of the visitor’s booth, dangling his flash drive in his face as if taunting some kind of caged animal and rolled his neck slightly to one side as he curled his wrists again, the plastic stretching slowly as he tried not to let his rage get the better of him. His patience was wearing thin. In the visiting hall he could actually feel his self-control heaving at the seams, and his outburst worried him because he didn’t clearly remember the first few moments of it. He remembered what happened afterwards clearly enough, but the first several seconds seemed to dance behind a blur of mind-numbing rage and he remembered it with a blend of fear and relief, as if giving into it had cracked a door open in his mind, one filled with a thousand colorful delights that had no connection to reality whatsoever.

  A door where he might find her again. If he ever gave up on his hope that Brooke was still alive and finally surrendered into madness once and for all.

  Ronan opened his eyes, remembering the way Brooke swung her legs off the edge of his bed, her presence so real he could still feel her image burning behind his eyelids and then opened and closed his hand rapidly, glancing back towards the gated station before pulling his wrist towards him in a hard, steady curl.

  Nope, he thought, his pale face twitching slightly across the surface of his scar. Not quite there yet, Nolan. Unfortunately for you. I still think you know a lot more than you’re letting on. And you never really gave her enough credit, did you? You never really understood what it meant for two people like us to find each other in the charred-out ruin of your rigged little world. No. Not even once.

  Ronan ran his tongue over his lips as he felt the zip-tie start to give and yanked his wrist towards his chest impatiently, barely noticing when his skin scraped and bled. He paused as he heard the red door unlock to his right and relaxed his hands in their restraints as it swung open, Dula leading the charge in front of three guards he’d never seen before as the fluorescent lamps flickered to life above them.

  Ronan glanced from face to face quickly, every turn of his head sending a mild jolt of pain to the nerves behind his eyes
and raised his brows as a man he hadn’t met before moved to the front of the fray, a long white medical jacket flapping around his tall wiry frame.

  Well, well, he thought his jaw rolling slightly as the tall man gave him a thin smile, glancing over his chart with a bored, casual air that set his teeth on edge. Looks like we’re finally going to meet the man behind the curtain after all. The one pulling all the levers in this little theater of the macabre.

  “Warden,” Ronan said his dark eyes twirling wildly as the taller man frowned, replacing his chart with a noisy rattle. “How nice of you to drop by. This Wonderland hospitality is really something. I’ll be sad to leave this place. I honestly will.”

  The taller man held up his hand as Dula started to speak and took a step towards his chair, his eyes hard and flat above his thin, benevolent mask.

  “I’m glad you approve, Mr. White,” the thin man said, his voice smooth and reasonable. “And so pleased to finally make your acquaintance. My name is Dr. Cain. Gentlemen, would you mind?”

  Ronan’s brow furrowed as the two guards flanked him on either side and Dula slid a long metal table up to the edge of the chair, the malicious rush of excitement in his eyes setting off a dim chime of warning right up the corridor of his spine.

  “And with all your favorite lap dogs too,” Ronan said, rolling his wrists smoothly as he gritted his teeth. “I have to hand it to you, Dula. That kind of training must’ve taken some time. You’ll have to tell me all your secrets about it one. Day. Soon.”

  He felt that pulse of warning again as the thin man went on smirking and felt the sudden desire to rip his throat out with his bare hands fill up his body like an electric surge.

  “Still angry, aren’t you?” The man said, tipping his head slightly as Ronan ran his tongue over his bottom lip, glancing at Dula from the tail of his eyes. “That’s good. That’s excellent. I find that the first treatment is so much more effective when those feelings are fresh in the mind.”

  Ronan watched the man flick his hand at one of the guards next to him and jerked his left arm violently as both guards rushed him at once, slapping something down over his wrists as he jerked his body forward. He made a low noise of rage as he felt the leather cuffs tighten hard enough to hurt and threw his body forward as both guards dropped back a step, moving out of eye shot as Cain raised his brows at him.

  His rage took a wild leap forward as he felt one of the guards slam his head backwards and felt every muscle in his body tighten in panic as the other slapped a leather strap across his forehead, forcing himself to close his eyes as he felt the long leather chair he was strapped to curl him into a sitting position.

  “If you think this kind of thing scares me, Doc, you really haven’t been keeping up on your reading,” Ronan said, his voice clipped and savage. “But don’t expect a whole lot of good fortune to follow you afterwards. Fate has a funny way of settling old debts when you least expect it.”

  He jerked his head violently as the man in white gave him a sudden skeletal grin and tried to jerk his hands out of their restraints again, the rush of unfiltered rage pumping through his veins so wildly he felt light-headed.

  “I would enjoy nothing more than a visit with you afterwards, Mr. White,” Cain said holding out his hand as Dula handed him a long vile. “In fact, I insist on it. This treatment is more effective when patients are in crisis but that also means that it can be a bit uncomfortable at first. If you could just try and hold as still as possible for me, please? I certainly wouldn’t want you to suffer any more than is absolutely necessary.”

  Chapter Seven

  “I’m sorry, Miss Gale, but you really can’t go through. There are absolutely no visits scheduled for today. And none whatsoever for Mr. White.”

  Alicia leaned over the courtesy desk as she saw one of the orderlies linger just outside of her field of vision, looking her over carefully as he reached for his radio.

  “Look, Judy,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm as she leaned over the desk and read her nametag. “It is Judy, right? I understand your position, I really do. But I’m speaking to Ronan White or I’m not leaving. And be prepared to have a whole lot of cameras shoved in your face too, because I’m going to start screaming about this program of yours to anyone who will listen.”

  “Miss Gale, if you could please just calm down…”

  “Robert Nelson,” Alicia said, snapping her head around as another guard picked up the tone of the conversation and started running down the corridor. “Isaac Jones. Carlos Mendoza. Noah James. All men who have been patients of your boss’s treatment program. Would you like me to wheel my cameras into the halfway houses you released them to? How about I just go and interview Mrs. Mendoza? She doesn’t live too far from here. How about we begin the story in Mrs. Mendoza’s living room and let her answer my questions when I ask her about what you did to her son?”

  “Is there some kind of a problem here, Ma’am?”

  Alicia leaned back as the larger guard stepped up to the desk, crossing his arms in front of him in a gesture that read more like a threat than professional patience. She looked him over rapidly, her face shifting with sudden contempt and pointed her finger at the woman behind the desk as she raised her voice louder.

  “You’re damn right there is. I’m with the Channel Six News. Ever heard of it?”

  “Everyone is aware of your position, Miss Gale. But unfortunately, the patient you want to see isn’t available. Maybe you should call Mr. Dula yourself and attempt to make an appointment for a later date.”

  “Absolutely not. I’m not leaving until I see him. You can play this any way you want, Jerry, but I’m not leaving this building until…”

  “Jerry, can I speak with you a minute?”

  Alicia turned her head and felt a strange blend of relief and embarrassment as she realized that it was the guard who had led her to Ronan’s cell the other day. She read his nametag as the receptionist picked up the phone and jerked her chin at her as the girl rolled her eyes and began to tap at her computer as if she had suddenly ceased to exist.

  Friends in low places, she thought biting back an annoyed scowl as the two guards huddled together closely in the darkness of the hallway. You know you just can’t have too many of them. Especially when you need the kind of favor that simple protocol won’t abide.

  She stepped forward as Morlan beckoned to her with a sigh and then gestured for the other guard to get lost. He turned as she reached his side and then shook his head as they walked out of earshot, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye as Alicia met his brisk pace.

  “You know, you could get us both into serious trouble coming down here like this,” he said glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

  “Yeah, well, why break a winning streak when it really gets going? And believe me when I say that I wasn’t going to leave you much of a choice.”

  “Kind of figured that. That’s why I came down.”

  Alicia pressed her lips together as they rounded the corner next to the elevators and he held up his hand, his tanned face tightening as he noticed her expression.

  “Look. Miss Gale. She wasn’t lying. You really can’t see him. He’s downstairs in recovery…”

  “Oh, fuck that, Morlan,” she said her gold eyes locking on him like a missile silo as she noticed a handful of guards hustle past them towards the cell block. “You think you can keep me out? Try it. I’ve had it with this secret tree club bullshit. Are you going to tell me what’s going on here or not?”

  Morlan let out a deep sigh as his radio went off and turned it down with a flick of his thumb, rubbing his hand across his brow in the universal signal of surrender in the face of misdirected feminine fury.

  “Ronan ran into some trouble the other day. During visiting hours.”

  “Trouble? What kind of trouble?”

  “You know the ex-chief Nolan I take it?”

  Alicia’s eyes darted in his direction as her brow
furrowed.

  “Yeah. So?”

  “Well, he came to visit White the other day. And it- ended badly. He’s been in- indisposed since then.”

  “How did it…What do you mean it ended badly?”

  Morlan cleared his throat and shook his head, his eyes darting towards the hall behind her as the receptionist stood up at her desk.

  “I don’t know. He just went nuts. Tried to smash out the window between the booths with his folding chair. It took four guards to subdue him, and even then…”

  Morlan shook his head as the receptionist waved to him towards him and swore under his breath as he pulled his radio out of his belt.

  “And then what?”

  “When they had him on the floor he grabbed a pen out of one of the guard’s front pockets and jammed it into his cheek. Dragged it halfway down to his jaw. Took more than forty stitches to close him up.”

  Alicia’s eyes widened as Morlan hit the call button on his radio and spoke into it quickly, giving her a look of sudden irritation as he turned her back towards the front desk.

  “Look, just head back to reception,” Morlan said, stepping past her as the girl at the front desk picked up the phone and dialed out. “It’s fine. Just wait here.”

  Alicia watched him retreat back towards the main cell block, breaking into a jog as he rounded the corner and paused as she saw the receptionist set down the phone and beckoned another guard, following him swiftly as she pointed in Morlan’s direction. Alicia took an instinctive step backwards as the receptionist followed the other guard down the far corridor for several steps and hesitated for less than a second before bolting towards the elevators, hitting the down button several times as she tried to melt into the wall.

  She slid inside the doors just as she saw the receptionist jog back to her desk and let out her breath in one long sigh as she hit the basement floor, her gold eyes darting towards the corner camera as the doors slid shut.

  Looks like there really is only one way to Wonderland, she thought, brushing her long bangs out of her face with an impatient swipe of her hand. One way down like a bat into Hell.