A Predator and a Psychopath

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A Predator and a Psychopath Page 2

by Jay Kerk


  He paused. I cursed him silently for putting me in such a weak position. “Come lie down and relax your body.”

  I answered truthfully. “I remember working on something in my office.” I closed my eyes. “The forecast for 2017. I’m thinking about getting out of this suit once I get home. This tie annoys me on sunny days.”

  “Okay, good. What else? Take your time, please.” He said.

  “My deadline is close, and I need some input from the managers in the Western area. I said I would give them ‘til Monday. The day is... Thursday.”

  I didn’t want to share the truth yet, not before I tested him.

  “I grab my bowling shoes. I want to relax for an hour before coming back to the office.”

  “Oh, please don’t lie. I honestly don’t know what I have to do to gain your trust.” Dr. Thompson sucked on one cheek and shook his head. “Enough with the lies.”

  Sweat formed on my back. All my instincts told me I shouldn’t share the rest, but regardless, I did.

  “I leave work early. I want to go home and spend time with my family. I miss them. I’m hungry and want a fresh meal. The last thing I remember is driving into the driveway and parking. I don’t recall getting out of the car.”

  “Great. What happened afterward?”

  “Nothing. I don’t remember.”

  Something happened. Otherwise, what the fuck are we doing here?

  “Do you recall the time of the day?”

  “I left work at 2 p.m., the drive to get home is around thirty minutes.”

  He drew a deep breath in, “How would you describe your relationship with your daughter, Lea? How do you feel toward her? Are you two close?”

  “We are close. Close friends. I’m proud of her. She’s everything I dreamed she would be. I know parents shouldn’t push their children toward something, but with her it’s different. We have this special connection, I take her advice and she takes mine. We are lucky to be like this.”

  “Are you in love with her?” He leaned forward like investigators do.

  Fuck you. “No. I love her a lot. I’m so attached to her—she’s always on my mind. But I’m not in love with her, and I won’t go into how insulting your question is.”

  Mental Note 9: Lea...

  The silence expanded, and I broke it. “She puts me in a trance state, and I want to give her everything in my life. I want to be near her as much as she allows me to be. She has an attractive aura, with a mix of intense beauty and calming presence. I love her, but I’m not in love with her.”

  “Did you ever engage in any physical relationship with her?” he said.

  I sat on the edge of the chair. He leaned back defensively, out of my reach. I imagined myself slapping him and pulling him by the hair to the floor. “No fucking way. No. Fucking. Way. You’re one crazy asshole. Where is this coming from?”

  “They’re standard questions,” he said. “I’m exploring all angles.”

  “This session is over,” I said and stood up.

  CHAPTER 2:

  PLAY ALONG

  The trip to my room was a walk of shame; I imagined myself as a defeated beast, a gorilla being dragged back to his cage in the zoo, overpowered and helpless.

  The room was sickeningly white, with a TV mounted to the wall, under which there was a shelf with a DVD player, discs, a bed and a small desk. A camera hung in the corner above the door, and below the camera stood a sink, a toilet seat and a small cabinet.

  The nurse gave me pills, and they knocked me out within ten minutes, while I recited my mental notes for the morning session.

  I woke up early. The sun hadn’t risen yet. I did my morning stretches for fifteen minutes, powered on the notepad, and set up a complex password for the device. Dr. Thompson had said four weeks.

  I went over my mental notes and took my time putting things together, controlling my breath. Inhale one, two, three, four. Exhale slowly.

  The sun rose above the horizon as I wrote down my initial thoughts and plans.

  Findings:

  Unlikely to be a government operation or mind study.

  My case concerned altered perception, undoubtedly severe. What caused the weight loss? How long had I been here?

  I buried the truth inside me, so I must have seen something happen, or I took part in what happened.

  Explanations: Did someone hit me on the head? Or had an accident led to my amnesia? I could have fallen on a hiking trip or been in a car accident. Was I drugged? Or did I try a new drug?

  Motive: Money? Hate?

  Luke couldn’t be compromised, and he wouldn’t betray me. I knew him well, and he wasn’t the type unless he’d been putting on a fake face for over three decades.

  Plan:

  - Ask the staff and other patients what happened.

  - Be healthy and regain my muscle mass.

  - Meditation and breathing: try to induce a hypnotic state in which I can recover memories.

  - Call Luke: Check the phones. Use the least secured one.

  - Escape plan: Study exits and entries, check cameras and access cards.

  I waited in silence and timed my breathing. I focused on making the most of the day. I heard footsteps — time to go.

  Her name tag said Norma, and a man accompanied her. He didn’t wear a name tag. She wore scrubs, and he wore gray overalls.

  We walked through the hall, eight doors down, up two flights of stairs and into the breakfast hall. I counted over forty patients having breakfast, and no children. Behind the counter stood three kitchen staff, and four security personnel each positioned on every exit of the hall. Eight nurses floated around the room and cared for patients. On the walls, two television sets were mounted, each displaying something different, and both speakers blasting sound.

  While filling my tray with food, I spotted a staff phone on the wall behind the counter.

  The noisy hall annoyed me and reminded me of school playgrounds. I selected an empty table, and I took my time eating. I needed to gain weight.

  An old guy sat next to me; he dressed funny.

  “Heya, bright sport. How you doin? All well?” He said. I didn’t intend to alienate him-he might be the craziest person on earth. Here, people behaved as weird as they wanted.

  “Good. How about you? Do you want my chocolate pudding?” I would waste no time in building allies and identifying weak points. Simple transactions forged the best relationships.

  “I’m doing okaaay. It’s non-pancake Tuesday, and I told Gary I want pancakes every day.” He reached for the pudding and removed the seal. “What brings you here, sport?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. He held the spoon in midair and glanced at me. “No, really, I don’t seem to remember. I swear. Do you know?”

  “Are you the guy who killed his squad?”

  What a waste of time, the guy is bananas.

  “Not me,” Wait, be patient.

  “I don’t know. But you’re most welcome here. You can get married here, start a family. I can look after your children.” He stood up to leave.

  “Wait. What’s your name? Why are you in a hurry?” I waved for him to sit.

  “They call me Sandals,” he pointed down at his sandals.

  “So, what is this place? Who is in here and why?” I asked — worth a try.

  “When your wires burn, they bring you in here.” He pointed his finger to his head, opened his eyes, and rotated his arm. “Cuckoo,” he whispered.

  “So nobody here is in for addiction problems? Cocaine? Heroin?” I asked. None looked the type, but it was still better to ask.

  “Nope.” He licked the spoon thoroughly. “Well, sometimes they bring in a rich young fuckup. Most of them look like you.”

  “Ok. Anyone here got cancer?”

  “Nope. Huh, uh.” He shook his head.

  I placed my hand over his. “Thanks. I will always give you my pudding.”

  Afterward, we headed for a restroom break, to be followed by a gym session.


  “Norma. Yeah, hi. Can you please tell me what happened to me?”

  “Mm, I can’t Jason.” Her high-pitched voice unsettled me. “Only Dr. Thompson knows the details, and we have strict orders not to discuss anyone’s past. Our role in the treatment is solely to create daily stability.”

  “Not even headlines?” I asked and smiled. She didn’t answer. “Is my family okay?”

  “I truly don’t know. We know nothing about our patients. The place is a rehabilitation facility, so you make healthy habits, do enjoyable work, take control of your everyday life, and bounce back,” she said.

  Yeah, right. Tra la la la and ta-da!

  “Okay, I hope the routine helps. Oh, before leaving, please tell Dr. Thompson I want to see him soon, preferably today.”

  “You’re scheduled to see him on Thursday afternoon, which would be in two days. Do you want to speak to him over the phone in the afternoon or early evening?”

  “Okay.”

  She handed me over like a criminal to another nurse with no name tag and zero interest in my affairs, but he got the job done and delivered me to the gym.

  I would spend two hours cycling and weight lifting, then move to the sauna and steam rooms and finish in the jacuzzi or with a swim. The staff monitored our movement from the surveillance room, and I’d bet they had a phone inside.

  Most people here were in their twenties, or over fifty years old.

  During lunch, I concluded that the cafeteria staff phone was too exposed to be used, and all the windows fenced with iron bars. They operated the exits by access cards, in and out, and none operated by buttons. A distance of about two hundred yards separated the building from the guarded front gates.

  Escaping was impossible.

  The best chance to call Luke was from the surveillance room, but I would need a diversion to force the personnel out of the room. And only one person must be inside. Otherwise, one could respond to the distraction and the others could still prevent me from making the call.

  If I jammed the outer door to lock Sandals in the steam room, he would press the emergency button. But I would risk his death, and I didn’t want to injure him.

  What if the nut-bag slipped and broke his neck?

  I hated being handled by the nurses. They moved us like cattle, and they monitored us while we swallowed our pills, forcing us to spread our mouths open with our fingers afterward.

  “Hey, Jason. Ready for the call?” Norma was always excited.

  “Sure.”

  “Hello, this is Dr. Thompson.”

  “Hello, Gary. Fancy a chess game? A Jameson on the rocks?”

  “Hi, Jason.” He chuckled. “And please call me Gary.”

  Oh my, he had a sense of humor. The robot can take a joke.

  “Seriously now, I want to speed up the process. I think I’ll be fine.” He didn’t reply, but he sighed. “I’m meditating and...”

  He cut in. “I will adjust our schedule to speed matters up; we’ll meet every other day instead of weekly.”

  “Okay. Sounds fine.”

  I went with Norma to the common area, but I didn’t want to mingle.

  “Some people like to eat their dinner here while watching TV and there are many games, board and electronic,” she said.

  “Yeah, we can catch the 7 p.m. news on Channel 2.”

  “Actually, we don’t have network cable, but there are many DVDs. You also can borrow one to watch in your room.” Her enthusiasm resembled the Caesar’s palace reception.

  Live games and VIP tables on the 1st floor and over six thousand slot machines on the ground floor.

  “Okay.”

  I put food on my tray, taking four puddings.

  “Hi, Sandals. How are you doing old pal?” I took a seat next to him.

  “Heya, sport, how are you?” He seemed tired.

  “I’m good. Missed you in the gym but hoped to catch you here.”

  “Oh, I got no juice left to exercise.” In the evening he looked even older. I’d put him down to be around 60.

  “Who said exercise? Come relax in the steam room or the jacuzzi.” Please take the bait.

  “Yeah, I need to relax. Let’s go now.” He stood up.

  “No, not now! Tomorrow at 11 a.m. You meet me there. Here, take these two puddings.” He took the puddings without hesitation. “Why can’t you get your own pudding?”

  “I’m on insulin. I keep telling the doctors I don’t care; I should choose what I eat, but they won’t listen. How long do they think I can live?” He turned the spoon around inside his mouth and licked forcefully.

  “You don’t need to worry. I can constantly supply your pudding if you can do me a favor. A small, simple favor.”

  He eyed me suspiciously, stopping the spoon midair for effect, trying to be funny. “I’m listening.”

  “When you’re in the steam room, I’ll go into the sauna, and you count to a hundred and press the red button. I want to see what happens and how quickly they respond.”

  “Sport.” He gave me the side eye. “Are you trying to escape?” he whispered. I stayed silent.

  “Can’t do it,” he added.

  “Can’t press the button or can’t escape?”

  “Both. Others tried to escape during my time; I stopped counting. And escape where? The police will bring you back in less than a day.” He puffed some air.

  “The police are colluding with them?” I said jokingly.

  “Yup, the pigs are their best mates.”

  “Ok, how can I make a call?”

  “Duh, the visitors’ area. Haven’t you been? We all go at 4 p.m..” How stupid of me, surely the facility included a visiting area. But likely they wouldn’t let me in without supervision.

  “Mm.”

  Well, well, new horizons.

  “We can agree about the button situation,” Sandals said.

  “What do you want in return? I’m open to anything, but tomorrow at 11 a.m. is not negotiable.”

  “One month of pudding,” he held his finger up.

  “Deal.” We shook hands, but I had my doubts. He wasn’t reliable.

  Day 2

  No major updates. I tried to obtain news from another nurse, but she gave the exact same response as Norma.

  In the morning, I bargained with Sandals for three months’ worth of pudding if he faked chest pains to stall the responding staff. He agreed, and I promised him another three months if he could alert me in time.

  “Alert you? How can I do that?” he protested. I told him to say something funny or even to shout my name.

  A few minutes to eleven. I waited in the pool area, and right outside the door was the entrance to the surveillance room. When Sandals presses the button, I will walk casually in the hallway. When the surveillance guys responded, I must be quick enough to enter the room before the access-controlled door closed. The timing was crucial. I could miss the entrance.

  I wore one of the white robes places nearby, and I splashed some water on myself until I looked as though I had just come out of the steam room. Sandals passed by me and entered the room, and a minute later I heard Sandals screams: “Help me! My heart! For the love of God, help me!”

  His screams sounded ridiculously fake.

  The alarm went off.

  I counted to three and moved through the pool door into the hallway, walking purposely. The surveillance room door opened from the inside, and a guy ran toward the pool area. The door almost closed, but I grasped the handle.

  I entered, and thankfully; the room was empty.

  I found the phone on the desk. I dialed the number and waited.

  “Hello, this is Helene. How may I help you?”

  I hung up.

  All these phones were part of the internal network, I should have thought of that.

  Think fast.

  I tried 9, and 0, and 1 to access an external line, but none worked.

  I tried 111, got the same voice, “Hello, this is Helene, how may I help you?” Same respon
se.

  “Hi.” I deepened my voice. “This is Richard from surveillance. I’m new here; could you please remind me how to dial externally.”

  “Oh sure. 1318, wait for a few seconds, and you will receive a line.”

  “Thanks.”

  Superb. Now we’re talking.

  I dialed Luke’s number; three rings and went to voice mail, so I left a message. “Hey, asshole, this is Jason. Come pick me up; I’m in Jackson’s rehab facility, something occupational. The treating physician is Gary Thompson. Prepare a lawsuit, Luke.”

  The sooner he heard the voice message, the sooner I would be out. Maybe this afternoon, tomorrow at the latest. Luke moved mountains with his legal work.

  Sandals screamed erratically, but they stopped the alarms, so I had little time.

  I tried Lisa’s number twice. Disconnected! So was Lea’s!

  I tried Luke again, and he answered, “Hi, Luke Anderson.”

  “Luke, this is Jason. What the fuck is happening, man? Please come get me. Who put me in here?” My heart pounded through my chest.

  “Heeeeey, buddy.” He sounded surprised by my call. “I can’t, bro. It’s court-ordered. How are you? We miss you a lot. Are you feeling better?” He was sympathetic.

  “Yeah, much better. How is my family? Are Lisa and Lea ok? I called them, but their lines are disconnected.”

  “Yeah, they’re great. They miss you. I guess they got new lines; I’ll inform Lisa about the lines. Are you getting better, sticking to your meds?” His worry was genuine.

  “Please, if you can’t get me out then come see me. I’ve got to go, but I’m waiting for you,” I hung up.

  Things didn’t add up. Why would they buy new phone lines?

  I swiftly got out of the room and headed to the pool area.

  Sandals’ bad acting caused quite the laugh, the staff gathered around him grinning as he tried his best to prolong the fit on the floor while naked. The scene cracked me up.

  He spotted me and said, “Sport, nobody believes me. Chest pains almost got me, but they disappeared just this minute. This second.” He opened his eyes wide to fake a massive surprise. “Poof.” He gestured with his hand.

 

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