Soul Suites

by Hulden Morse

  “Allison Barnes?”

  The name did not register in her mind at first. Hamilton continued to sink deep in thought, pondering her very future and what she could do to improve her odds of survival. When the hotel clerk said it again, her attention snapped toward the present world around her.

  “Is there an Allison Barnes here?”

  She leaped up from her seat and scurried to the front desk.

  “Yes! Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. I’m Allison Barnes.”

  “Hello, Ms. Barnes,” the woman at the desk said in a smooth voice. “A letter is here for you.” She then handed over a white envelope with a small, hard bulge in it. It had “Allison Barnes” written across the front.

  “Where is the man that dropped this off? Is he still here?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t know. I just got a call from a guest saying that you should be here to pick it up.”

  “Okay. Well, what room is he in?” Hamilton heard herself say those words and realized how creepy it sounded.

  “I really can’t give that information out, ma’am. I can call the room if you’d like.”

  She thought about it, pondering whether putting forward the effort to see Jeff was truly the right thing to do. He obviously did not want to be found with her and so maybe it was best to respect his wishes and simply take the letter.

  “No, that’s okay,” Hamilton said. “Thank you.”

  She gripped the envelope tightly, not wanting to lose it, and then turned from the desk, glancing around the lobby to see if there were any shady characters or people who seemed to be watching her.

  What the hell am I doing? she thought, trying to analyze every person that sat in the lobby. How can I tell if someone is following me? I’ve never dealt with this before.

  Hamilton hurried out of the hotel and retrieved her car from the valet. Once inside, she pulled out of the parking lot and into a gas station. The envelope was on her passenger seat, staring at her, begging to be opened, and so she tore into it like a child at Christmas, eagerly exposing the contents with anticipation exploding from every pore.

  Inside the envelope she found a folded piece of paper and a flash drive. The USB was unmarked. That worried her. What if it had a virus on it? Or it could install spyware on her computer that tracked her every mouse click? She decided to open the files in a library near her house.

  Hamilton then unfolded the letter and found a typed message that was only a couple of lines long. It read, “Someone is following me. Couldn’t risk meeting you. Nor could I risk using your real name. I organized a meeting at one of our resorts for a bunch of donors. All corporations. Don’t know what meeting was about, but it was hosted by your company. This drive contains documents I had about the meeting. They are highly confidential. Expose the truth.”

  She shook with excitement. What was that meeting about? Who were the corporations that were there? Could the files on that USB help bring Charles home? But Jeff had said that she would need information from Reaching Dreams in order to find the truth. What did that mean?

  It was late afternoon by the time Hamilton set foot in her local library. The place was nearly empty, which played to her liking. She sat at a computer in the corner and plugged in the flash drive. Half expecting a skull and crossbones to appear on the screen, signaling the release of a virus that would certainly get her kicked out of the library, Hamilton breathed a sigh of relief when the File Explorer window opened and all she found were a series of PDFs.

  She clicked on the first one and found a lengthy financial statement from Jeff’s company. It seemed completely ordinary. She clicked on the next PDF and found a similar document. Why had he given her all this nonsense? These files were not incriminating. She scanned the entire report to ensure she did not miss something crucial, and then her jaw dropped in astonishment. Hamilton nearly fell out of her chair as the gravity of that document began to sink in. Her hands shook as she tried to click on the next PDF, but she accidentally closed the File Explorer window instead.

  “Fuck!” she said loudly, only to be shushed by someone nearby.

  Hamilton opened the folder again and commenced her adventure through the hidden statements of a corrupt corporation. She could not believe what she was seeing. It wasn’t possible. It simply could not have been done. And yet there was definitive proof, staring at her through a dusty monitor. She then came across a different kind of document: a list of companies that would be attending a meeting about six months ago, and the names of representatives from those companies. She recognized almost every corporation on the list. The last PDF was a set of donations made to a group called PIC DC. She didn’t recognize it. It seemed like an acronym, but what would—

  The identity of the group suddenly dawned on her. This is bad. This is really bad.

  Having seen enough, she shut down the computer, pulled out the USB, and called Pinner in a panic. People stared at the woman, startled, as she sprinted for the front door, stumbling along the way as every ounce of fear collecting within her managed to sap the coordination from the rest of her body. The line continued to ring.

  Godammit, Sandra! Answer the fuckin’ phone!

  It rang over and over like a siren in her ear. Hamilton was almost in her car.

  Answer the phone! We are in deep shit here!

  Chapter 40

  After another bout of nightmares that left an already tired man even more mentally drained, Charles sat at the table with his roommate and quietly ate a stack of pancakes. The two had uttered quick “good mornings” at one another and then sat in silence for the rest of the morning. Before falling asleep, the CEO told Damian what he had learned from his lunch with the doctor the day before, though there was not much else to be said about the topic. He was becoming increasingly distraught with every passing day. He had internally celebrated the small victory of convincing Dr. Raymond to divulge information about the facility, though what possible benefit did that have for Charles? He had hoped the knowledge he was acquiring would lead to some form of leverage against the illustrious leader of the experiment, yet the discovery of that leverage eluded the frustrated businessman.

  He was about to ask Damian what kind of music he preferred, hoping for a somewhat normal conversation, when their door opened and two guards entered, such a common sight at that point that neither man reacted to their arrival.

  “Alright, gentlemen. Would you please follow us? It’s cleaning day.”

  “Cleanin’ day?” Damian asked.

  “Yeah,” the guard replied. “Can’t have you sleeping in your own filth too long. Follow us to the showers.”

  Charles slowly rose from his chair while his roommate bounded out the door, seemingly excited with the notion of a cleansing shower. The CEO had to admit that he also would not turn down an offer of a hot shower in that moment. He couldn’t remember when he had last cleansed himself, a scary thought for someone who had grown up showering every day. He was certain that his body reeked of sweat and stale clothes, and their room most likely smelled of crusty sheets, old food, and vomit, making him thankful for the chance to take care of his own personal hygiene and the unbearable room situation.

  To the amazement of the subjects, they were led up a flight of stairs and into an entirely new part of the building. The unfamiliar area had more doors with numbers on them, similar to the hallways surrounding their own dwelling, though they were taken through an entryway that read “Men’s Facilities” above it. Once inside, they saw what looked to be a locker room, complete with toilets and group showers. The place was empty and had two towels—along with two fresh pairs of grey clothes—sitting on a bench for the men to use.

  “Alright. Strip and shower quickly so we can get the next room,” one of the guards said.

  “How come you don’t just have everyone come up together?”

  “Safety reasons. Now get going.”

>   Charles and Damian hopped into the showers and stood under the hot water for a brief moment of relaxation. But after receiving impatient glares from the guards, they found a soap dispenser mounted on the wall and started scrubbing themselves clean.

  “I’ve got a question,” Charles said to the stoic onlookers.

  “What’s that?” replied a stern man.

  “Where’s this place located? It must be remote, I’m assuming.”

  “You really think we can tell you that?”

  “Um, no. Sorry. Well, can you tell me how long you’ve been at this location?”

  “Who? Me?” the guard said, confused.

  “No. The experiment.”

  “Um, just under a year. Now that’s enough talking. Hurry up and finish.”

  Charles looked to Damian who motioned for his friend to continue the questioning. After grabbing a handful of aromatic shampoo and throwing it into his hair, the subject spoke again.

  “Why do you always listen to the doctor?”

  “I thought I said to stop talking?”

  “Why? What’s wrong with talking?”

  “It’s unwise to ask questions around here.”

  “But it’s just us in here,” Charles said. “I’m not asking harmful questions. I’m just curious. Trying to make the time pass faster. Unless you’ve got some music we can listen to.”

  The two guards looked at each other. One of them shook his head, while the other shrugged his shoulders and started talking.

  “It’s in our contract to listen to him.”

  “So, you’re obligated to do everything one man says?” the CEO questioned.

  “We signed our life away.”

  “But that’s illegal.”

  The large man chuckled awkwardly. “Try telling that to the guy that kills people for a living. We’ve all had coworkers who were punished for their stupid decisions to break protocol. If you’re smart, you play the game.”

  “Why is he like this? The doctor.”

  “He’s brilliant. He knows how to get things done.”

  Charles took a chance and decided to throw down the very few cards he had in his hand.

  “Why does he not work for the clinic anymore?”

  Both men put their heads down, refusing to answer the question presented before them. Damian stopped scrubbing himself and watched the scene unfold, waiting for the fearful demeanor of the guards to change.

  “What’s wrong?” Charles asked sincerely. “He told me he used to work at a clinic. Why did he leave?”

  The more talkative guard lifted his head and said quietly, “We have heard rumors. Nothing more than that.”

  “Well, what are the rumors?”

  “Don’t answer that,” the other guard said to his chatty companion. “You need to stop being so nice to the subjects. That chick in 36 may have appreciated you taking care of her, but Eddie and Meredith thought it was weird. Don’t get yourself in trouble.”

  “What’s wrong with being nice? I’m not giving anything away. I’m just not being a dick to them.”

  “And I’m telling you that people are taking notice. So, knock off your shit.”

  The guards fell silent, much to the dismay of both subjects.

  “Come on. We’re the only ones here,” Damian chimed in for the first time. “No one can hear us. Right? Why won’t you talk ‘bout it? Do ya even know?”

  After a lengthy pause, the talkative guard gave his companion a pleading look before speaking. “Um, it’s not our place to say,” he muttered. “It’s just a rumor.”

  “Well, what’s the rumor?”

  “Something so unthinkable that it’s not worth talking about.”

  Both Charles and Damian had stopped showering at that point, standing there naked as they waited for more information from the guards.

  “It’s worth it to us, though. What is it?” the CEO asked.

  “We aren’t going to talk about it. Go back to showering.”

  “Come on,” Damian added. “Just—”

  “Go back to showering!” the man yelled suddenly. “Just, just finish your shower and we’ll take you back.” He paused momentarily and then said to no one in particular, “It probably isn’t even true. No, I doubt it’s true. But the idea of it being true is terrifying.”

  After showering, Charles crawled onto the top bunk to get some rest, even though he had eaten breakfast not long before. He hadn’t slept much the previous night, so the subject figured his tiredness was due to this new life catching up to him. Damian had cited a similar fatigue and retreated to his own bed, quietly tucking himself into the fresh sheets of their clean room. The CEO wondered if the trials were taking a toll on their bodies. He questioned his heart’s ability to withstand much more abuse and figured that his organs would eventually shut down as the effects of frequent shocks and forceful compressions accumulated within his system.

  With weary eyes and a tense body, Charles pulled the sheets over his head to block out the light, though he instantly felt something poking his right leg beneath the material. Assuming it was merely the tag for the sheets, he brushed it away from his leg and felt a large piece of paper graze his hand.

  Confused, the man grasped the piece of paper and fiddled with it between his fingers. He glanced at the cameras in the room, noting where they were pointing and imagining what someone would do to him if they knew he had found an item of interest. Even though Charles assumed the paper was either blank or contained nothing of value to him, the CEO took no chances and remained with the sheets pulled over his head. He curled into a ball on his side, facing the wall, and brought the piece of paper close to his face. He unfolded it and read the handwritten words as best he could in the blackness of his self-made privacy.

  On the lined paper was scrawled the message, “Do not believe anything the Doc says. People are killed even if they are suspected of helping subjects. I will not risk my life by revealing myself to you. There are cameras in every room. Find them and know where they point. You must escape. Use the small chisel any way you can. FYI: the walls are hollow.”

  Charles lifted the bedsheet ever so slightly to allow a crack of light to shine into his space. The light illuminated the paper, and he looked it over again, ensuring that he had not misread the message on the note. After confirming its actuality, he reached down to his feet and fumbled around for an object that had been left by the unknown individual. His sweaty hands found a long, hard item. He brought it up to his face to see that it was indeed a small chisel that could easily be used to harm someone or break through a wall.

  The CEO held onto his treasure and wondered what to do next. He could not pull out the object for fear of being discovered by whoever watched the cameras. He needed to inform his roommate of what had recently been left for the two men to discover. Charles decided that it would be best to bring up the topic with Damian casually, so as not to seem visually suspicious to anyone watching them. It would look as if they were having an ordinary conversation even though the man was screaming with enthusiasm on the inside.

  The awestruck subject gripped the chisel tightly, thinking how incredible it was that luck seemed to be on his side for the moment. He had received valuable information about the functions of the facility and held no doubt that he would receive more from the doctor in the immediate future. And now, someone within the facility was working to help him escape. This can be done, he thought. This is possible. I may actually see my family again.

  Chapter 41

  “What do you think of it?” Charles asked from the top bunk after telling his roommate about the message and chisel.

  “I don’t know, man. I don’t know. Ya think it could be a trap?”

  “How so?”

  “Well,” Damian said from below, “what if it was planted and people come to search the room and find it. Then we in trouble.
And we’ve no one to blame.”

  Charles thought about the possibility of the entire scenario being a ruse to cause issues for the two men. It seemed probable, yet he couldn’t figure out why someone would go through the trouble to frame two subjects in an experiment, especially when those subjects had no authority or rights. What would be the purpose of putting them through even more abuse?

  “We have to assume that someone is trying to help,” the CEO said.

  “Why?”

  “This could be our only chance to escape. If we assume it’s a trap and don’t use it, then we continue to be killed. If we take this opportunity, then we at least have a chance to get out of here.”

  “Small chance.”

  “But a chance nonetheless. Why wouldn’t we take advantage of that?”

  Damian nodded his head in agreement. He knew Charles was right. Surely they had been given a gift by some altruistic individual, though he was still nervous. The man pictured an increasing number of ways that the situation could blow up in their faces, causing more stress than they were already dealing with. He desperately wanted to avoid any unnecessary problems and merely do as he was told. Yet that would ultimately lead to more pain and an inevitable, as well as brutal, death. It would be moronic not to at least make an effort.

  “Alright. So what you thinkin’ we should do?”

  “The bathroom only has one camera. There’s a spot where the camera can’t see us. I say we take turns using the chisel on the wall there. See if we can get into the wall.”

  “What if we accidentally break through to the other side? Then someone will see it and know we’re trying to escape.”

  “I’ve heard flushing coming from the other side of that wall. It’s another bathroom. Not sure if more people are there that are in the experiment, but it’s the only place we can chisel without getting caught.”

  “What do we do once we’re in the wall?” Damian asked, seeming to be skeptical about the loose plan.