Pandora's Box

by K. C. Blake

  “I think Boracci must still want him for something,” she said. “Once Grainger’s outlived his usefulness, then he’s dead.”

  An old familiar whine filled her head. It brought the sharp edge of a knife with it and together they threatened to rip her head apart. She pressed both hands against her ears, but the noise was coming from inside her head. Her vision blurred until Tyler disappeared altogether.

  And then she felt the evil presence again. It hung over her shoulder, watching. How long would it be content to merely observe? How long would it be before the thing ripped her to shreds with its sharp teeth?

  ******

  One minute Madison was talking to him like a regular person and the next she flew at him with swinging fists and hard kicks. She’d caught him off guard. He went down on the motel room floor. He expected a replay from the last time when she’d jumped on him and tried to kill him. But this time was different. She seemed out of control and confused.

  It only took her a few seconds to get by him and out the door. He rolled over, pushed to his feet and ran after her. He went to the center of the parking lot, looked and listened. For a moment he thought he’d lost her. The night was too blasted dark with only a sliver of moon. The sky was probably covered in clouds because it was starting to rain. Not a light rain either. The drops grew bigger and more insistent by the second.

  Unfortunately the motel she’d chosen was on the edge of town where streetlights were few and far in-between.

  He slowly revolved, his trained eyes scanning the area.

  She was running at top speed, heading down the center of the street. Lucky for her there were no cars traveling it at the moment. Tourists were in town at the casinos and locals were either at work or in bed. He had to stop her before she hurt herself or someone else.

  ******

  Madison tried to outrun the pain, but it stayed with her, keeping pace with her as her legs pumped in frantic rhythm. Her head was splitting apart. How could she be in such agony and not die? She couldn’t think beyond the pain. And there was also the matter of the monster chasing her. It was right behind her.

  She tripped and fell, hitting the road hard. Her knees struck the asphalt and her hands scraped against the rough surface, saving her face from nasty cuts. She had to keep going! Madison struggled to her feet and began to run again. She darted down a dark alley.

  “Hey, honey, where you going?”

  Some guy in ratty clothes tried to grab her. She realized he was trying to help the monster. He wanted it to get her, wanted to watch it devour her. She struck him in the chest with her elbow, hit him in the mouth with her fist and stomped on his foot. While he yelped in pain, she did a flying kick. Her foot hit him square in the chest, sending him flying backwards into a line of overflowing garbage cans.

  “Madison!”

  She heard a voice yell from somewhere behind her and new fear blossomed in her heart. The thing knew her name. With a wild cry, she ran as fast as her tired legs could carry her.

  Where was Tyler? His face floated in her mind for a brief second. If only she could get to him, he would know what to do. He would fight the monster for her. She could trust him. Only Tyler.

  Madison found a pay phone on the next street just outside of a closed gas station. She jerked the folding glass door open and stepped inside. She knew she was taking a risk by stopping long enough to call Tyler, but she had to do it. Her gut screamed at her to call him.

  She shoved her trembling fingers deep into her trousers, searching for a quarter. Her pockets were both empty. Tears welled up in her eyes, born from frustration, fear, and a desperate clawing loneliness. She couldn’t do this anymore. Not alone.

  She grabbed the receiver off the hook and slapped the number pad again and again as if Tyler would magically answer if she hit them hard enough. She cried, “Tyler? Where are you?”

  “I’m right here, baby.” He pulled her from the phone booth, his arms wrapping around her.

  Although her mind registered this was Tyler holding her, she kept imagining the monster, the thing grabbing her. She tried to fight him. Her hands slammed against his chest again and again. He grabbed her wrists, spun her around and swept her off her feet. A wave of dizziness flipped her stomach over. She squeezed her eyes shut.

  “It’s okay, baby,” he whispered. “We’ll get you some help.”

  His soothing voice reassured her. She relaxed against him, content to be in his arms. The pain in her head receded to a dull throb. A dark blanket settled over her and she lost consciousness.

  Her last thought: Where did the monster go?

  ******

  Chapter Thirteen

  Utter devastation. That’s what Tyler was feeling as he waited in the near-empty hospital’s visiting room for word on Madison. Every time he heard footsteps, he leaped off the center row of orange plastic chairs and eagerly searched for the doctor he’d briefly spoken to earlier. What was taking so blasted long?

  He couldn’t stop picturing the last time he’d seen Madison, her face pale, skin cold. There hadn’t been a drop of color left in her cheeks. Her breathing had been shallow, her pulse weak. He’d realized something as he’d watched the doctor and nurses wheel her away on a gurney, taking her somewhere deep into the bowels of the sterile building. He cared about her. No, care wasn’t strong enough a word.

  He actually thought he might love her.

  Tyler leaned back in the uncomfortable waiting room chair and stared at the tiled ceiling. Each square boasted several rows of tiny holes. He wondered how many people had gone insane trying to count them while they waited for news on a loved one. Sighing, he patted his pockets for a cigarette before remembering for the millionth time that he’d quit.

  Had he done the right thing in bringing her to the hospital? If Madison had a microchip in her brain, what could they do about it? Brain surgery? There’s no way he’d allow them to tamper with Madison’s life.

  Damn, too much bloody time to think! He needed to do something. He had to find a way to help her. He glanced up at the doorway and like an answer to his prayers there was Dr. Grainger.

  “How did you know where to find us?” Tyler asked.

  “I overheard a security man telling Boracci. They were watching her to make sure she left Vegas. I had to sneak out of the house and borrow a car. I don’t think anyone followed me, but I can’t be sure.” Grainger took a nervous glance around. He shook his head sadly. “I was afraid this would happen. It’s because of the chip, isn’t it?”

  “You son of a bitch!” Tyler flew at the man, grabbed him by his shirt, and shook him hard. “You did this to her!”

  “No, I didn’t.” Grainger’s head swung back and forth in denial. His eyes widened in fear behind the glasses. “Please believe me. I only wanted to help people. My chips were never meant to control people. Unfortunately my associates don’t see things like I do.”

  “Madison almost died tonight.”

  “And she still might if you don’t let me help her.”

  Tyler released the doctor, temporarily appeased by his offer to assist them. “What can you do? Can you remove the microchip?”

  Grainger motioned for Tyler to be quiet. The man looked around as if he thought they were being spied on. He took Tyler’s arm and steered him back to the plastic chairs. They sat together, just two old friends consoling each other in a hospital waiting room. When Grainger spoke again, his voice had lowered dramatically.

  “No one can remove the chip. It is too tiny and the brain is too fragile.”

  “Then what the hell can you do to save her?” Tyler’s rage boiled below the surface. He could quite happily snap the other man’s neck for creating this situation.

  Grainger explained, “I can deprogram it and make it useless. If it’s dead, then it won’t be able to harm her anymore. Also no one will be able to use it to control her. If someone has already programmed her to do something, killing the chip will make those orders vanish.”

  “I don’t t
hink she’s acting under orders right now.” Tyler chose his words carefully, not wanting to divulge too much because he didn’t know where the doctor’s loyalties rested. “She goes into a sort of trance, becomes violent, and she doesn’t seem to recognize me. Why would the chip make her attack me?”

  Grainger scratched his bearded chin thoughtfully. “Well, it’s possible the chip has shorted out somehow. Perhaps when she was stunned on the airplane. The electricity might have altered the programming. If something is wrong with the chip, a variety of things could be sending her on a violent rampage. Light blinking in a certain pattern or at a certain rate of speed could trigger violent behavior. Or sound could make her lose control. Although, I’m quite certain when she attacked you she was seeing someone else.”

  “Who?”

  “Not who… what. You have to understand the microchips. In order for them to work we need to use tricks and alter reality. Since Madison was four when she received her first chip, her father suggested we use a monster to make sure she complied with the suggestion she make her bed every day. Although she didn’t consciously think of the monster, didn’t remember it in a physical sense, the veiled threat of it gave her the necessary push to obey the implanted command.”

  Tyler glanced at the nurses’ station. Busy women in white moved around like bees buzzing around their hive. Should he trust Grainger to save Madison’s life, or should he leave her in the hands of the hospital staff? He knew what he wanted to do, but he wasn’t sure what he should do. There was one thing bothering him about Grainger’s offer.

  “Why are you doing this?” Tyler asked. “The CIA supposedly tried to have you killed. You’re supposed to be in hiding. Why risk coming out now to save a woman you obviously never gave a damn about?” A thought occurred to him and his eyes narrowed on the doctor’s sweaty face. “Is this another part of the experiment? Are you trying to study the affects of the chips through Madison?”

  Once again the doctor shook his head vehemently. “No, I swear to you I only want to help her. My wife and I loved Madison. She was the child we never had.”

  “So you keep saying.”

  “It’s true.” Grainger produced a white handkerchief and used it to mop his brow. “Duncan Grey didn’t deserve to have such a wonderful child. He used her without remorse, molded her to be what he wanted her to be, but I’m not sure he actually ever loved her. She would have been better off with me and my wife.”

  “Was my father on board with all this microchip business?” Tyler asked the question even though he was certain he didn’t want the answer.

  “Oh, yes. Duncan Grey came up with the idea of using his daughter as the first test subject, but Malcom Law jumped on board with both feet. He wouldn’t let it go even when Rico and I suggested other alternatives.”

  Tyler’s jaw tightened as he thought about the four men ganging up on a helpless child, brainwashing her for their own evil purposes. He hated them, all of them including his own father. They were sick, twisted individuals. They should be in prison.

  Madison’s doctor stepped into the room, clipboard in hand. There was a dire expression on his face of impending doom and Tyler knew the man carried bad news. If there was the slightest chance of saving Madison, Tyler had to take it. He had to risk it.

  ******

  Tyler ignored the man in white and asked Dr. Grainger more questions. “Why didn’t you kill the thing before now? If everything you’ve told me is true, why wait? You could have stopped this from happening.”

  Grainger’s shoulders slumped. “Yes.”

  “Then why the hell didn’t you?”

  “Rico would have killed me and my wife, and Madison didn’t appear to be in danger. Rico may have been against the idea at first, but now he wants it left alone. He didn’t even want me to speak to her.” The doctor on the other side of the room cleared his throat as his patience faded. Grainger looked Tyler straight in the eye and said, “I swear to you on my wife’s soul, my wife whom I love more than life itself. I only want to help.”

  Decision made, Tyler turned to Madison’s doctor.

  Before Tyler had a chance to speak, the doctor said, “We’ve run several tests and so far haven’t found anything wrong with Ms. Grey. She’s regained consciousness and her vitals are good. She seems to be suffering from memory loss.” He shrugged. “There are a few more tests we could run.”

  “No need.” Tyler forced a smile as if he wasn’t worried as hell. “I’ll bring her back if she faints again.”

  “I really think she should stay the night for observation.”

  ******

  “I didn’t think we’d ever get you away from that over-zealous doctor,” Tyler told Madison as he positioned another pillow behind her back. They were in her little motel room. She’d been surprised to see Dr. Grainger with Tyler. How had the man escaped from Boracci’s estate? She wanted to ask, but she was too weak to speak. Something was wrong with her.

  Madison felt drained. She could only remember small bits and pieces of what had happened to her. She’d answered the motel room door to find an irate Tyler wanting to speak to her. After that everything became fuzzy. Had she raced down the street with Tyler in hot pursuit? Why did she keep having visions of a monster?

  Grainger fiddled around with what looked like an extra-large remote control. He pushed this button and that button, a hard grimace on his face. He swore beneath his breath and pushed yet another button. He slowly turned a tiny dial like a safecracker listening for a telling click. The man was so lost in what he was doing that Tyler had to repeat himself three times before Grainger took notice of him.

  “What is that thing?” Tyler spoke louder the third time and cut the distance between himself and the doctor in a hot-tempered flash. “Just what the hell do you plan on doing to Madison?”

  She strained to hear the answer.

  “I am going to render the microchips useless,” Grainger replied.

  “You can do that?” Madison asked, using the last bit of strength she had. Hope blossomed in her chest. She tried to sit up, but her arms trembled with a lack of energy and she collapsed back onto the mattress.

  Tyler shot her a concerned look.

  She smiled weakly at him, trying to convince him that she was fine without words. By the unchanged expression on his face, she knew he didn’t believe it any more than she did.

  “It won’t be easy,” Grainger said. “I need to find the exact frequency to shut them down.”

  “Is this safe?” Tyler asked. His eyes narrowed on the doctor. “You aren’t going to use her as a guinea pig. You have done this before, haven’t you?”

  “Of course I have.” Tyler seemed to relax, but then Grainger added, “Although the chips weren’t implanted in someone’s brain at the time.”

  “Forget about it then.” Tyler grabbed the remote from the doctor. “You aren’t messing with Madison’s brain when you don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t know what I was doing.” The doctor’s chest puffed out. “Finding the frequency might be a problem, but I doubt a wrong one will do her any harm. I think we can do this with no more than a little discomfort.”

  “You doubt? You think?” Tyler shook his head vehemently and held the remote high out of the doctor’s reach when the shorter man tried to grab it. Grainger jumped in the air, desperately trying to reach the remote. It would have been comical if there wasn’t so much riding on the outcome. “No way! Forget about it. You are not playing with Madison’s brain.”

  “Don’t you think Madison should decide that?” Madison asked. Dead tired of being talked over, about, anything but to, had renewed her strength. It took everything she had to stand on her own two feet again, but she did it. She crossed the room, took the remote from Tyler with a forced smile, and handed it back to the doctor. “If you screw this up, I can’t protect you from him,” she told Grainger. “Tyler might kill you.”

  “She’s wrong,” Tyler said. “There’s no might about
it.”

  The doctor visibly swallowed, his eyes bouncing from Madison to Tyler and back again. He slowly rotated away from them. His shaking fingers began playing with the instrument in his hand, trying to get it set right the first time.

  Madison’s strength ebbed suddenly. She swayed unsteadily on her feet and Tyler caught her. He didn’t lecture her like she expected. Instead, he placed a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose. He also didn’t carry her to the bed like a helpless invalid. Arms tight around her, he walked her to the bed. Their eyes connected and held, speaking volumes.

  “I think I’m ready,” Grainger said.

  He might as well have thrown cold water on them both. Madison blinked and turned away. She returned to her position on the mattress. She couldn’t look at Tyler again. Not now—or she might break down emotionally. Every moment shared with him came back to haunt her. What if something went wrong and she wasn’t able to speak to him again? There were things she needed to say.

  “Here we go,” Grainger announced. He pointed the remote at the back of her head as if it was a gun. He pressed the rectangular button near the top.

  For a moment nothing happened.

  An electric shock hit her hard, traveling through her brain. The mythical box that Grainer had told her about opened. Her Pandora’s Box opened. Memories zapped past her mind’s eye. Horrible memories. She saw her mother’s death.

  No. She relived her mother’s death.

  And she smelled roses.

  ******

  Twenty-six years ago.

  Sharon Grey’s bedroom window was open and the smell of roses wafted in, filling the room with sweet fragrance. The woman packed a suitcase on the bed, neatly placing her folded clothes into it. Another one, an empty one, waited near her feet. Six-year-old Madison watched from her favorite hiding place between the dresser and wall. She pouted with folded arms across her chest. She didn’t want to leave daddy.