“No one knew he was a loose cannon. I thought we could rely on him. That Holloway obviously found a way to convince him we’d lied to him. We should have never told him that they were the ones to kill his family. We should have simply said they were persons of interest. It would have given him the same motivation, and it wouldn’t have exactly been a lie. All he had to do was read Holloway’s thoughts to know she didn’t kill anyone.”
“You dare to lecture me!” I imagine Stan’s vein is just about popping out of his head right now. I would not want to be on the receiving end of that face. “You let them get away, with Reader, and they took out The Core! They destroyed all of our research and set us back years!”
“I know what they did, but think of it this way, they were capable of doing that, just on their own. They’re further along than we could ever hope. Once we have them, they’ll be ready for missions immediately.”
Their voices drift away as they resume walking down the hallway. I’m shaking, realizing just how close we’ve been to Martha and Stan. I never want to have to be near them ever again.
“He was hiding something from her. He knows we’re here.”
“What?” I gasp loudly, unable to stop myself. My body shakes harder.
“Not here as in this closest, but he knows we’re coming. He kept thinking as soon as he catches us here, then things will be back to the way they were supposed to be.”
“But what about Dean? He’s getting the cops to come here. Do you think they won’t believe him? That they won’t be willing to come here?”
“I don’t know. We need to get Rose. Implement plan B.”
Plan B isn’t really much of a plan. The longer we spoke of plan A, the more we didn’t think plan B would be needed. We each have weapons, which we’ve planned to ditch as soon as we know Dean and the cops are here. They were just a precaution, one we now need. We’re familiar with the layout of the building. We simply have to do what we have done at The Core, minus the bombs. There is no need to destroy this building. We also have to try to get out with two extra people, which is now going to be a problem with Rose going off on her own. It means we have to try and get to three people now.
“Come on.” Blake takes out his gun and holds it like he knows what he’s doing. I dread having to touch my gun, but I do it anyway. I don’t hold it as strongly as Blake holds his. I leave it facing downwards.
We make it out into the hallway where the coast is clear, tiptoeing along.
As we turn the corner, we hear Martha and Stan talking again. They’re in a small office. The door is ajar so we move closer to it, hearing what is being said.
“…me? I have said I’m sorry, what else do you want? Things have worked out fine. Nichols seems to be responding very well to this regime, same with Parker. This doesn’t have to be the disaster you feel it is,” Martha snaps.
“Your apologies are empty. You have no idea what you’ve done. I don’t expect you to.” Stan’s voice is cold.
“Don’t talk down to me, Stanley. Don’t forget I know your dirty little secrets, I know what building you keep them all stashed in, I know who to show them to,” she threatens.
“Is that your invitation for me to have you killed?”
“I would like to see you try.” She is screaming at him now. Their marriage sure is a volatile one.
Silence descends on us now and I wonder what is happening. Are they staring each other down? Or are they actually fighting and we just can’t hear it?
“Agent Goodings is wondering if he would get away with killing his wife while she is wondering if she can reach her gun in time,” Blake whispers to me.
The phone ringing makes us both jump. I have to try to swallow my heart back down my throat.
“Goodings… excellent, thank you for the news…. yes, you know what to do… yes, Saturday night, bring the wife. Martha absolutely adores her.” Stan drops down the phone.
“That was Rob. He has some excellent news.”
“I will not spend another night with that stupid wife of his.I will kill her the next time I see her, I promise. If I have to hear one more conversation about knitting and—”
Blake violently grabs my arm and I have to bite down on my lips to stop from yelling out in surprise. I let him drag me away down the hallway before I rip my arm out of his, trying to stop him.
“What is it?” I hiss.
“That phone call. I could hear Agent Goodings’s thoughts through it. Dean has been found out. That call was from the police officer in charge over there. They’re going to kill him. They’re fucking dirty cops. No one is coming for us.” Blake looks panicked and I know why. No one will save us. Dean will be dead and we’ll be trapped here. Stan and Martha know this will be the night we try to break in and we’re separated. Nothing about this situation is good. I take a deep breath to gather my wits. Now is not the time to panic.
“Right, you need to leave. Take the car and get to Dean. You have to stop them from hurting him.”
“What? Agent Goodings just told him on the phone to kill him. I’ll never make it in time.”
“They won’t kill him in a police station. They’ll have to take him somewhere else. With any luck, they’ll hold off until later. You have to go,” I demand.
“I can’t just leave you here.” Blake is looking at me like I’ve grown an extra head.
“I’ll get Rose and together we’ll find Charlie and Will. We’ll meet back up in New York, got it?”
“This is too dangerous. You leave this place and get Dean, I’ll stay.”
“We don’t have time to argue. I don’t have the ability to save Dean. It might take a good shot and I don’t have that. Now, go before I scream in this hallway and alert everyone we’re here,” I threaten.
“New York, sixth floor,” Blake demands and then, after seeing me nod, he runs off back down the way we came in. I hope he won’t find trouble there. He has to get to Dean in time. Dean has to be okay and not only for Rose’s sake, but for all of our sakes. We can’t take another person being killed. I can’t take it.
I try to listen out for that cry Rose had heard earlier, thankful it’s coming from the opposite direction to where Martha and Stan are most likely still fighting.
I rush ahead, holding my gun more firmly in my hand. I don’t know if I could shoot it if I needed to, though hopefully the threat of it being in my hand will be enough for any trouble I encounter. Courage from somewhere I didn’t know existed comes over me and I keep willing my legs forward.
I skid to a stop when I hear the cries for help getting louder. A door with a keypad is open. I know Rose has come this way. No one else would leave a door like this open. Besides, Rose would be able to crack that code easy.
I hesitantly walk through the long, narrow hall. To my left there is a large window and through that window is a room full of beds inside. At least fifteen beds occupied by men and woman. Most are asleep or maybe worse, but a few are crying in agony. They’re bald and the ones who cry in pain have their heads bandaged up, the others who are asleep have smaller bandages showing a mostly bald head.
What happened to these people?
I see a door on the other side, but when I move over, I find that it’s padlocked. These people are locked in this room with no way to get out. I think about shooting out the lock or better yet, the window, but I fear I’d accidently shoot someone, or that these people really need P.A.G.E.’s help and by trying to free them, I might actually be killing them.
Maybe they are cancer patients being treated right here? Maybe this is simply a facility that they happened to stash Will and Charlie in, but they actually do good here? The padlock mocks that reasoning, but I let my gun fall back down to my side and walk on. No matter what, getting Will, Rose and Charlie is my first priority. Rose must have gone through these same thoughts as me. She also has a gun and chose not to use it.
I rush further down the hallway and find similar rooms, but the further down I run, the better the people in the rooms look. Hair
is growing back and their slumber looks peaceful. An idea hits me like a ton of bricks as I reach the end door.
What if they aren’t treating cancer or sickness here? What if they’re altering brains as some sort of brainwashing? What if they’ve done this surgery on Charlie? What if this is how they got him to turn?
I race back down the hall and check all the sleeping figures for Charlie or Will. Each face I study, knowing they’ll look different bald. No one is them, though.
Again, I reach the end door and hold my breath as I hold the handle and turn the knob. It doesn’t open. It’s also locked. I look to my left where the hallway continues and know Rose must have kept going left. I can’t bring myself to take my hands off this doorknob, though. Something is pulling me to go through this door. Something important is on the other side, I know it. My body knows it. I have to get through.
I have no key for this door and no way of getting one. I’m not very strong, but I feel desperate enough that I have to get through this door to try anything. So I move several steps back and then charge at the door. It might have moved a tiny bit, but not enough to break through. I try again and again and again, but nothing happens.
I still hold the gun in my hand and an idea builds. I hold the weapon close to the door handle and close my eyes. Dean would tell me to open them, to make sure my aim holds steady and to prepare myself for the kickback. Yet I’m too scared to look. I squeeze the trigger and fire the gun. When I open them, I groan as I’ve shot entirely too high. I step closer to the door again and aim a little lower than the lock. The loud bang my first shot caused seems to have woken everyone up as more crying and moaning is coming at me. I know soon people will be coming this way, will know to come here. I have just signed my own capture, but I have to trust there is a reason I want through this door. That something important is behind it.
I fire the gun again and this time I keep my eyes open and hit the lock. It breaks and I find it easy to force the door open. I rush through it, not knowing what to expect, but feeling sure there will be many people, possibly guards, who will have heard my gunshot on the other side. Instead, I’m greeted by emptiness. In fact, as soon as the door closes behind me the crying and moaning from just outside it is almost silent. If there wasn’t a hole where the lock used to be, it would probably be completely silent in here. They must have made this wall and door soundproof.
I look around to see where I am.
There are a few couches, a large television, a bunch of games and DVDs scattered on the coffee table in the middle of the room, and a game console of some sort. This room looks like an entertainment room. In one corner is a small kitchenette. I have an eerie feeling this is a place I have been before. I open the door to what I hope will lead me out of this room and not into a pantry. I’m happy to find it unlocked and leading into a new hallway. I walk past many closed doors towards the muffled voices I hear coming from the well-lit area towards the end of the hall. I pause every few steps, fearful that they may have heard the shots and that this could be a trap, and when I peek around that corner ahead of me, there will be guards holding guns all pointed at me.
Instead, I hear laughter amongst the loud talking and it gives me strength to keep moving forward. When I reach the edge of the area, the voices and laughter are coming from, I take a quick peek around before pushing myself back into the wall I’m against. In the blur, I’ve seen several people sitting around a table in a room with many tables. It’s obviously a dining area.
No one has their weapons pointed at me and no one seems to think anything is amiss. I know what is amiss, though. I’ve seen this place before. This is my future dream. I’m too late to save Charlie. I look back around the corner and watch the scene I’ve already seen replayed in my head several times as it plays out right now.
“So onto other topics. What’s up with this personality change? At first, you’re trying to beat everyone up and now you want to be everyone’s friend?”
“I just realized there is nothing out there for me, you know? All I have is what is here now and the sooner I accept that, the sooner I’ll be able to move on.” Charlie’s words should have cut me deep; they definitely had the first time I heard those words in my dream, but to hear his voice makes my heart flutter. I have to grip my hands onto the wall to stop myself from running over and embracing him. It feels like it has already been an eternity since I last saw him, last touched him.
“Nothing out there? From what I heard you were in love with the psychic or whatever she is?”
“I screwed that up. Besides, I need this place. I need to learn how to control my blackouts. No one except P.A.G.E. can help me do that.”
I tune out the words they’re saying. I don’t need to hear them. I keep my eyes trained on Charlie’s back as tears fall down my face, knowing he has changed now.
It’s long seconds before the rest of my dream crashes back down on me. I have always focused on Charlie’s words, those words of betrayal that I feared far worse than how my dream had ended. I turn my head backwards in time to see Stan rushing towards me. Unlike these guys, Stan has been on the other side of the wall. He would have heard the gunshots. He’s been alerted at least ten minutes ago that I’m here.
I don’t get to react to what I know is coming. I’m hit harshly in the face and fly backwards before hitting the ground hard under me. Stan moves over me. I don’t bother to try getting to the gun that has flown out of my hand. I merely hold my hand to the spot where I’ve been hit and wait for what I already know is coming next.
Stan is standing tall over me, smiling cruelly, slowly crouching down until his face hovers just over mine. Tears escape my eyes, but they aren’t from the pain which is now radiating through my head. No, they’re from the fact that I’ve failed. I’ve failed Charlie. I’ve failed everyone. I broke my promise to Drew and now everything is wrong. I won’t be able to correct this so easily. I won’t be able to get us out of this one. We’re trapped and I’ve helped us get here.
“So nice to see you again, Third Eye. Welcome home.” Stan pulls his arm back and I close my eyes, waiting for more pain. I feel something prick my arm and I open my eyes in time to see he’s holding a needle. Numbness creeps over me and I feel dizzy.
I need Dana. She always holds my hand when I need to have a needle. Where is she?
I reach out, trying to find her, but there is no one there. I’m all alone. No one will be able to save me now.
Chapter 37 – The Future
Boston, Massachusetts
December 29th (Zoe aged 12)
“Hey Zee, wake up.”
I shoot up in my bed, feeling panicked. My body is shaking and I’m covered in sweat.
“Are you okay?” Dana sits up on her mattress that has been placed next to my bed. She eyes me worriedly.
“What?” I can’t catch my breath. I feel a fear seep deep into my bones. I crave Mom’s arms around me. I need to know everything is going to be okay.
“What’s wrong?” Dana takes my hand in hers and squeezes it tightly. It feels as good as any hug I can get from Mom.
“I—I don’t know. I think I just had a nightmare.”
“I hate nightmares, you get trapped in them. What happened? It might help to talk about it.” Dana sits in front of me attentively, ready to listen to whatever I have to say. Ready to assure me the monsters in my dream aren’t real, that she’ll protect me no matter what.
“I can’t really remember what happened. I was me, but I just know I was older. Not as old as Mom, but older than us now. I think someone was trying to hurt me. I felt so scared, more scared than I have ever been in my life.”
“It was just a dream, though, Zee. A dream can’t hurt you.”
“This felt different. I was hurt and there was so much blood. Someone was dying in front of me and I felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest. They weren’t breathing.”
“That sounds really scary. What on earth did you eat before bed? Mom always tells me if I eat
cheese before bed, I’ll have nightmares. We didn’t have any cheese, did we?”
“There’s more. I think I killed someone in my dream.”
“The person who’s dying in front of you?”
“No. I think I killed someone else who was there.”
“Ew, maybe you just shouldn’t eat at all before bed. That’s definitely a nightmare, Zee.”
“Do you think it’ll come true? Do you think I’ll kill someone when I’m older?” I worry, already knowing I had seen Dad leave and Frank’s funeral all before either happened.
“Of course you won’t. Zoe Holloway couldn’t hurt a fly.”
“But what if I do? What if I’m dreaming of the future?” I already know I must have been. I don’t dream very much anymore, not really since Frank died, but now I’m more scared than what I had felt then. Am I going to grow up to become a murderer?
“It’s impossible to dream of the future, Zee. Don’t be silly. It was just a stupid nightmare and you have to promise me you’ll forget it.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget that,” I admit.
“Well, you have to. It’s a lie, Zee. You’re not going to kill anyone. Promise me you’ll forget it.”
“I…” I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get rid of that image of the man dying in front of me, of the heartbreak I felt watching him die. That affected me more than knowing I had killed someone. Who is that man? Is it someone I love? A future boyfriend?
“Zee, don’t make me tell your mom you spilled grape juice all over the carpet downstairs and we moved the couch to cover it up,” Dana threatens me.
“You wouldn’t!” I gasp, fearing the trouble I’ll be in if Mom ever found out.
“I would, too. Now come on, it’s snowing outside and there is a snowball with your name on it.” Dana pulls off her covers and grabs her thick jacket off the ground before finding her socks.
I’m slower moving, but one look outside at the snow has me feeling less scared. I’m at home, safe in my room. My dreams used to often come true, but I haven’t had one in ages. Why would I suddenly have one now and one so much into the future, too? I’ve never had a dream so ahead in time. It has to be wrong, right?
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