by Jenn Stark
“Not even that,” I said, catching on. “You said the ones who’d been taken had asked for anxiety meds. So you just need to act anxious. You’ve already got that look down.”
“Thanks,” he said derisively. After another few minutes’ discussion, we headed in.
The lobby of the facility looked about as exciting as the Department of Motor Vehicles, and nearly as crowded. Crying children, haggard-looking parents, and patients-to-be in varying levels of health hunched apart from each other on black plastic chairs, staring at the muted TV or paging through last month’s pop culture magazines. A plump woman behind a sliding screen surveyed us as we walked in, and Brody obligingly threw up his hands.
“Darlin’. you’ve got it all wrong,” he said as Nikki grabbed his flailing fingers and I steered him forward, even as he kept up a deep Southern drawl. “You’re overreacting like you always do. Look at these people—they are sick, seriously sick. We should let them get the attention they need.”
“Can I help you?” the woman behind the screen asked, and Brody turned his stormy blue eyes on her, giving her a smile that had melted my seventeen-year-old heart. It seemed to do the trick on a thirty-something’s heart as well—it was that kind of smile.
“Well, you most surely can, ma’am. You can help me by telling my well-meaning friends that I don’t need to be on meds.”
“He’s off his Klonopin,” Nikki said succinctly. “He’s fine now, but we’re heading cross-country to LA, and this audition is too important for him to screw up. What will it take to get another dose?”
“I don’t need another dose, I’m telling you.” He turned back to the woman at the counter. Two other nurse-looking women had filed in behind her and were whispering to each other and smiling; then a tall, thin woman stepped in. She didn’t smile.
A chill snuck up my spine, and I squeezed Brody’s arm where I held on to it. “Klonopin,” I said, low and clear. “Please, we can give you all the information you need on his condition. Is there—is there someplace we can sign in? We can wait in the car or something, I don’t know…” I looked worriedly over my arm, as if in fear for the huddled mass of patients behind us.
“Nancy, please have the patient step back to examination room four,” the doctor said abruptly. The woman at the counter started with surprise.
“B-but, Doctor, I haven’t gotten his information yet.”
“We’ll take care of that later.” The doctor turned on her heel.
The intake nurse gave Brody a warm smile. “A nurse will be right out. Your friends can wait in the waiting room.”
“Yeah, no,” Nikki said brightly, and she wheeled Brody around, the two of us clamped firmly to his arms. A moment later, the door opened and a smocked woman looked out, her eyes going wide as she saw the three of us. “Mister…?”
“We’re a package deal,” Nikki said, then pushed her way into the back hall before the woman could react. When the door shut behind us, Nikki offered a tight smile. “Mr. James is in need of medication. In the past, when he’s been in need of medication, he’s caused harm to himself and others.”
“Oh, for God’s sake—” Brody protested.
The nurse drew herself up. “I’m sorry, we can’t allow you to do that.”
“Claudia.” The doctor was back, and she offered us all an assessing smile. “It’s all right. I recognize the symptoms. Examination room four, please. I’ll take care of gathering the information.”
The hapless nurse nodded and moved quickly down the hallway, Nikki and I following along. A moment later, we were in the examination room, the three of us crowding in around the paper-covered bed.
“Is she our target?” Brody asked as soon as the door closed behind us.
“You think?” Nikki said derisively. “She almost fell all over herself. Clearly, she hasn’t hit quota on delivering stooges this month.”
I nodded. “Or she’s on to us, and we’re about to get slammed for our efforts. Either way, she’ll be here quickly enough. We won’t need much time.”
A few minutes later, the door opened again, and the doctor strode in, carrying a clipboard on which rested an official-looking form—and a white paper cup with two pills in it.
I stared at it. Surely she wasn’t thinking…
Brody backed away from her, looking credibly panicked. “Now, I don’t need—”
“Don’t worry, I won’t give these to you before I’ve had a chance to understand your symptoms,” the doctor said with her first smile of the day, her gaze shifting to us. “The fact that you need to be escorted at all times is surely an indication that your condition is not ideal, though, right?”
“Is there something I can start filling out?” Nikki asked, moving forward. She held out a hand to the doctor. “I’m Janet Mulready, personal security for Mr. James. Trust me, he needs your help. We’ve been flying commando since Albuquerque, and he’s going to start losing his shit in the next half hour if we don’t do something. Last time he went off his meds, he disappeared for three days.”
“I did not,” Brody said, huffing in outrage.
The doctor gave Nikki her hand, her smile not wavering. “I’m glad you sought assistance, then.”
“You ever deal with that? Missing patients?” Nikki pumped the woman’s hand, then flashed her a bright smile. “Probably not. Because you can help keep that from happening.”
She dropped the doctor’s hand and glanced to me, but I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, my third eye in so much pain, I was surprised I wasn’t bleeding from the forehead. The darkness pouring off the woman was so intense, it seemed unreal. Nobody could have an aura that mired in goo and still be breathing. No one.
“Look, I’ve had it,” Brody snapped, crossing his arms. “You can’t make me take your filthy meds—none of you can.”
“Whoa, whoa, there, Mr. James,” Nikki said hurriedly. “It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.”
“We have other treatments beyond Klonopin that you might want to consider, Mr. James. It’s for your own protection.” The doctor took a step back. Her hand stole to her pocket—cell phone? I wondered. Time to leave.
“I don’t care what you have, I’m not taking it,” Brody blustered. “I haven’t spent the last year working my ass off for nothing. I’m going to take this trip to LA with my wits about me.”
“It’s not your wits we’re worried about, John,” Nikki snapped back. “Just calm down. It’s going to be all—”
She turned away as the doctor shifted forward, and before I could react, the woman pulled something out of her coat and aimed it at Brody. He was five feet away from us—too far for me to reach. The puff of air was so slight that I almost missed it, but Brody wheeled back, almost taking the table out completely. “What the hell!”
The doctor held up an atomizer, her gaze triumphant. “Calming mist,” she said. “You should be feeling better shortly. Now, if we can proceed with the paperwork?”
“Calming—what?” He shook his head like an angry bear, rubbing at his face. “That got into my mouth!” he growled.
Nikki reached for Brody as he stumbled, and hauled him upright. “Okay, we’ve just moved into stage two. Thanks, Doc, I guess we won’t be needing you after all.”
“Wait—what?” The doctor blinked, genuinely surprised.
“The dizziness and vertigo is a straight shot to violent outburst. You want that to happen here, you probably should plan on having police tape strung over your windows like Christmas lights. We need to go.” She grabbed the paper cup, and held them up. “Klonopin?”
“Yes—no. You can’t take that. There are protocols—”
“Fair enough. We’ll stop at the nearest hospital, then.” Nikki tossed the cup onto the counter. It tipped over, but nothing tumbled out. The doctor wasn’t watching that, however. Instead, she focused on Brody.
“Mr. James, I suggest you don’t leave,” she said tersely. “It would be very dangerous.”
“I’m leavin’.” Brody slurred
. “You can’t make me stay.”
“Out you go.” Nikki half carried Brody to the door, which I helpfully held open as they exited. The doctor stepped out behind me, still awash in her nasty dark aura. She looked past us to a new set of men I hadn’t seen before, but she didn’t summon them.
“Is there a side exit?” Nikki demanded.
“Of course,” the doctor murmured, indicating the beefy men. Great. But Nikki was already heading for it, carrying a now-unresisting Brody with her.
The doctor trotted beside us. “I must caution you that he will have a terrible episode if you don’t get him to a hospital soon,” she said, but her voice was now at odds with the expression on her face, and she watched Brody with mirror-bright eyes.
“We’ll get him there, thanks.”
I held out my hand, and she took it, not seeming to mind when I dropped it just as fast. Definitely Connected. No wonder LVMPD hadn’t been able to get anywhere with her.
We hauled out into the parking lot, then realized we weren’t in the front lot anymore, but the back. Which meant our car was half a block away.
“Okay, love chop, you can drop the act now,” Nikki grunted, stepping away from Brody. When she released him, however, he fell to the ground.
Just then, the two doors to the clinic opened, and the Twin Beefy Boys stepped out.
“This…isn’t ideal,” I said.
“I don’t feel so good,” Brody muttered, and I groaned, looking down at him.
“You all right, ma’am? Sir?” the first guard called out.
“We’re good!” Nikki said, waving them off. They kept coming.
“Gun?” I asked her. Mine was still in the car.
“Nope,” she said. “Mace?” she asked in turn.
I squinted as the men started pacing toward us, looking far more menacing than they needed to. “Nope,” I finally admitted.
“Fireball?”
I blinked at her, then back to the men. Then I smiled.
“We can always use more fireball,” I agreed.
The fight was a short one. Nikki leaned down and lifted Brody in a fireman’s hold, and the men burst into a run, one of them pulling a long-nosed gun free from his side holster. I came up with my hands cupped together, with an explosive blast of fire that was barely the size of my fist. It shot out with a hissing roar, however, and exploded about four feet in front of the men, dropping them to the ground in shock.
We bolted. By the time the goons got back up to give chase, we were already a hundred yards away, and a quick look behind us indicated they were never going to catch us.
“That was kind of a sad little fireball,” Nikki huffed as we ran behind the second strip of office buildings, angling toward where our car was parked. “Seems like you should be able to do better than that.”
“Yeah, well, you try throwing fire on the run. It’s not as easy as it looks.”
But the important part was—I had done it, on demand. And we’d gotten what we came here for too.
“Where to next?” I asked, and Nikki huffed beside me, slanting me a hard look.
“Nowhere, dollface,” she grunted. “Dead end. Lots of dead ends, actually. All I read from the doc were dead bodies, dumped into Lake Mead.”
Chapter Nineteen
We made it to the car less than a minute later and threw Brody inside. I piled in behind him. Nikki took the wheel. As we pulled out of the parking lot, I noticed a child stood on the far side of the street, watching us calmly. A young Hispanic boy, instantly recognizable to me.
Or was he? I grimaced as we shot past him. How terrible was I that he looked exactly like the kid in the warehouse—and the one at the airport? I had lonely children on the brain.
Nikki pulled my attention away from the window. “Lover boy’s waking up. You wanna give him the bad news?”
“What bad news?” Brody’s words were groggy, and he blinked around woozily. “Weren’t we in the clinic?”
“You got spritzed to death,” I needled him, but honestly, he looked better for it. Despite his disorientation, a healthy color had returned to his face, and his eyes were brighter than they had been all day. Even his aura had lightened.
“You’re not kidding,” he said, and he made a face as he opened his mouth, working his tongue. “I think I ate some of that stuff. No wonder I passed out.”
“You got the Klonopin, Nikki, or whatever those pills were?” I asked.
In the front seat, Nikki grinned. “You betcha. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough, once she spilled her beans.”
“What beans?” Brody rubbed his face and head again, leaving his hair spiked high. “She talked?”
“She thought, which was enough,” Nikki reported. “First I saw images of Beefcake and Wonderboy back there loading bodies into that van we saw in the back of the building, then a view of a house up on what looked like Lake Mead. Big place too. Money.”
“Oh hell,” Brody groaned.
Nikki shrugged. “There’s a facility inside, exactly like you thought. Testing lab. The good doc was in it up to her ears, but stressed as all hell over it, and not from guilt. She couldn’t supply enough bodies quick enough. Got her ass handed to her every time she went up there.”
“That explains how we got into the clinic so easily, but not the breath of doom she blew on me.”
“Smelled like lavender?” I asked him, not unkindly. He was rubbing his face again.
“Not exactly,” he said, palpating the hollows of his cheeks. “And whatever it was, it’s itching like crazy now. She said it was some sort of calming spray? Because I’m not feeling calm.”
“Well, you look a lot better, sweet buns, if that’s any consolation.”
“And that’s very important to me, thanks,” Brody said derisively. “What else did she share?”
“Dead bodies,” Nikki’s face hardened, her gaze fixing again on the traffic in front of her. “They were operating on live subjects, harvesting organs, killing the hosts only after the living tissue was removed and put into some kind of sealed-off container. Other areas were ambulatory test subjects—I couldn’t tell if those were the same as the ones they ended up cutting, but there was easily a dozen of them. All ages, from little kid to maybe mid-thirties. Nobody old.”
“You’d think they’d be testing senior citizens,” I said. “These drugs they’re making, they’re all about turning back the clock. Nobody wants that more than those who have a clock to turn back.”
“Agreed, but I got no sense that’s what they were looking for. Even lover boy here turned her on, and he’s—I mean, not young, but—”
“Hey,” Brody objected. “A little respect for your elders. But I did get in there awfully easily. The facility, Nikki, could you see the lake around it?”
“All around it, yup. Gotta be right on the water, and there were multiple buildings surrounding it in a cluster, all painted white—but it definitely was a private residence. Didn’t have a parking lot, for one, just a large garage. Did have a pier, now that I’m thinking about it. But white walls, green roof, outbuildings. Should be able to Google Earth it.”
“Agreed.” Brody thought hard for another minute, lifted his hand again to his face, realized he was doing that, and put it down again. “You see anyone matching the description of the young family?”
Nikki’s lips tightened. “Mom didn’t fare so well. She—or someone who fits what you said she looked like—was on one of the tables. The children were in the testing center, baby wailing to beat the band. It was bad. We’ve got to get up there.”
“Need a plan first, some sort of reason to demand a warrant.” He clawed at his face again. “If they’ve got some sort of biomedical human-trafficking thing going on, that’ll take the Feds. We need at least some sort of reason for them to target and move in, ideally with—”
I reached over and tugged at his sleeves, effectively pulling his hands from his face. “Seriously, Brody, you need to stop with the facial massage. You’re going to
rub your skin off.”
“It just feels so…weird,” he said. “Like it’s going to start coming off in sheets.”
I looked at him more closely. His skin had begun to redden, with tiny blisters just beginning to break the surface. “You think maybe you’re having an allergic reaction to whatever it was she sprayed on you?”
“Ya think?” He shrugged out of my grasp. “I need to go somewhere and wash it off.”
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. And hey, I said stop that—”
I grasped his hand with mine and nearly jolted out of my seat with the surge of electricity that shot through me. “Yikes!” I dropped his hand as my third-eye vision kicked in with a vengeance.
“Holy crap.” Why hadn’t I seen this immediately—like in the clinic? Why hadn’t I guessed?
“What?” Brody’s voice sharpened as he took in my face. “Goddammit, Sara, what is it?”
“Give me your hands,” I said slowly, girding myself. “Give me…both your hands. Slowly.”
“Guys, this is way more interesting than traffic, which is a bad thing for all of us,” Nikki said from the front. “What’re you doing, Sara?”
“Hands,” I said tersely.
Whether it was my face or the tightness of my voice, Brody stopped arguing. He put his hands into mine, flinching as I sucked in a sharp breath.
“What is it?” he asked, but most of the strength had left his voice. “What’s wrong with my hands?”
“It’s not your hands,” I said. “It’s you. All of you.”
“Connected?” Nikki asked, her voice climbing up a notch. “He already was a little bit, remember?”
“Not Connected,” I said, shaking my head. “At least, not any more than he was. And you’re still that.” I shifted my gaze to meet his. “But this is something else. You’re um…changing.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning your body, your cellular structure. It’s…it’s remapping itself. Reordering. You’re basically going to become younger, in terms of cellular composition. Better, stronger, faster.” I gave him a wan smile. “Think the Six Million Dollar Man on steroids.”