by Bella Street
Seffy followed. “Malone, why would they need a place like that when the whole point of the compound was to attract people who just wanted to get away from it all?”
“Guess some wanted to get away from more than most.”
She stared up at him, shaking her head.
“Besides, that stuff only happened when Popov and his supporters had some sway here. Before Fenn came into power and kicked them out. Of course Popov continued causing problems afterward—just under the radar.”
“I'm just shocked Fenn actually pretended to lead at some point.”
Another green glare. “There's a lot you don't know, princess.”
“So why don't you tell me?”
“Because I don't give secrets out to those with an agenda. Plus, you're still a bit mazed in the head from everything—”
“Malone, I was drugged against my will...” Her voice broke. “And I've lost my husband.”
“That's what I just said. Mazed in the head.”
Seffy compressed her lips. She turned her attention to the halls they passed. “What are you going to show me? I'd like to get this over with.”
He pointed to a long hall of doorways. “Try every door.”
“Malone, I don't have the energy. Just tell me what I'm going to find.”
He grimaced and stalked over to the closest door then wrenched on the handle. The door flew open. To humor him, Seffy approached the residence and looked inside. It appeared to be empty, as many of the other residences she'd seen. “I've noticed a lot of residents are high-tailing it out of here.”
Malone shook his bald head. “This isn't a residential section. This is where all the guards have their quarters. And every one of these rooms is empty.”
A qualm of unease rippled through her. “So all the guards are gone?”
“All that I know of.”
“Despite the fact that they weren't much good anyway, that is still cause for alarm.”
He rolled his eyes. “Give the girl a prize.”
“What about those bad guys who came through the rip in time or whatever?”
“Gone.”
“Gone.” She shook her head as the ramifications played out in her mind. “Holy crap.”
“You still have a gun?”
“Yes, the one Trent gave me.”
“I'd start packin' if I were you.”
“Where did the guards go? How did they leave?”
“Don't care and it doesn't matter how because you can't leave that way.”
Seffy regarded him, weary of the stonewalling. Maybe that's how one got on staff here—answer questions with more questions, give explanations that only deepened the mystery. Maybe Fugere had some openings now that most who could leave had left. She definitely had a leg up on all the non-competition.
“Then why are you still here, you being a guard and all?”
“Ex guard,” he said, his face darkening. “And I have my reasons.”
She wondered if the reasons had anything to do with Lani. “So what now?”
Malone stroked his chin. “I'm still trying to figure that part out.”
“Does Fenn know?”
“Haven't told him yet.”
“Why tell me?”
He glared at her as if she should be able to just read his mind. “Things are changing around here. You should be aware of that.”
Seffy raised a brow. “Things are always changing around here. Why is this any different?”
“Aside from the fact that the compound has been left undefended?”
“Do you think that's by design? Maybe the earthquakes and assorted shenanigans chased everyone off.”
“Be that as it may, you better brace yourself.”
“For what, Malone?” she said, exasperated beyond belief. “What can happen to me that already hasn't? What more is there to take away?”
His expression became shuttered and he jerked his head back the way they had come. “Best you get back to your room.”
Maybe on any other day, Seffy would be at least disquieted by the notion that Malone had sought her out and almost told her something, but right now, she didn't care. What monsters where left? Kraken? Evil gnomes? Rodents Of Unusual Size? Could anything hurt her as bad as she already hurt?
Apparently Malone thought so. But he'd been wrong a few times. And no need to add extra fear to the black ocean of heartache she was already drowning in.
They arrived at her room. Malone escorted her to her door. Seffy stood at the threshold and thanked him awkwardly for his...time. He looked at her like he wanted to say something more. She saw regret in his eyes among other things. That alone was too much to bear.
“If you need anything...” His voice trailed off—because there was nothing else to say.
Seffy nodded, then watched as he turned and walked away. Out of habit, she looked down the hall. Lani stood just outside her doorway, her eyes wide.
When Malone was gone, the brunette approached her. Seffy saw pain in Lani's bright blue gaze.
“So Malone was with you?” she asked, her voice high.
“Just for a little bit. Sometimes he checks up on me.”
“That's very kind.”
Suddenly Seffy realized what made the lines tight around Lani's mouth. “He doesn't check on you?”
Lani shook her head, tears standing out in her eyes.
“I'm sorry,” Seffy said quietly. “There's nothing in his coming to see me. You know that, right? Malone still cares about you. He's just working through things his way.”
“Of course,” she managed on a squeak.
“Do...do you want to come in and visit for a while?”
Several emotions flitted over Lani's distressed face. “Um, no. I don't think so.” She bit her lip. “Not today, okay? But soon.”
As Lani hurried back to her own room, Seffy sagged against the door jamb. Something needed to happen. And soon.
She decided to go up to the Light Room.
After popping open the skylight for some fresh air, she sprawled out under the twinkling lights. It was almost harder to be up here than in Trent's room, but at least here, Gareth and Malone wouldn't be popping in for tea and crumpets.
She stretched out her arm, almost imagining touching warm flesh beside her. But her hand only grazed cool blankets. How was it possible when she reached out he wasn't there?
Especially since he'd always been the one always reaching for her.
And that was how she realized he was gone. That long night after the shooting, she'd pressed herself up against his side.
But he never pulled her closer, he never reached for her.
She thought of the afternoons when they lay tangled together under the skylight, talking in drowsy whispers. Of the nights when they'd couldn't get their fill of each others' bodies.
Warmth had been replaced by chill. Fullness by absence. The lights above ran together in a watery blur. Her heart cried out despite knowing no answers would come. How can you leave me here? What am I supposed to do?
Then again, what place was there to go? What would leaving the compound really accomplish? Seffy struggled to take stock of her ever-shifting situation. If she stayed—which was untenable—she'd end up wandering the halls like some ghost.
Who am I kidding? I already do.
Walking away from the compound meant coming to some pink boundary that made total freedom impossible—if Fenn could be believed.
But Trent had also found the boundary to be true.
The other option would take a miracle. Also unlikely. Even if they could all get back to their time, it was still a world without Trent. L.A. was still a place where dreams died. If they got back, then what? They'd all return to their jobs and live together? So much had changed. Even if they managed to move beyond their ordeals, at some point, one or more of them would move on.
And I'd be the last one. Unable to move forward. Always left behind.
Or I could find an indulgent millionaire. Get plastic su
rgery and spend my time redecorating the mansion. But then I'd be poorer than when I was with Trent.
There was one other option, of course. But she was either too smart or too scared—or a little bit of both—to consider it.
Seffy nibbled her bottom lip. What if Jared's aim had been true?
What if I died instead of Trent?
She closed her eyes, knowing it wouldn't have ended well for him. No, it was better this way. If it had to happen at all.
But it didn't have to. Jared was under some compulsion to kill her. Why?
Seffy tried to remember what Jared had told her before he offed himself—if that's what really happened. He had mentioned a Dr. Frankenstein. Was that Olga with her freak science? But then he'd mentioned Eugene by name.
Eugene. Now there was a character who didn't fit. He was like a cardboard cut-out with his thick glasses and plaid pants. And what did he actually do at the compound aside from drinking Tab, living in a book-strewn residence, and killing cats?
Was it possible he was in league with Verity? Why would Verity have anything to do with the science guy? Why was Verity involved at all? The woman had been consumed with her appearance and stealing Gareth. She just couldn't be some mastermind. It didn't make any sense.
Maybe Jared was talking about some different Verity? Seffy remembered some papers on Eugene's desk in his room, back when she thought she could charm information out of him.
Along with the names of all those who had arrived in the desert from 2006, one name was only marked by a V. Did that refer to Verity? What about Lani's theory that Verity had, in fact, followed them through the wormhole, but got mixed up with the zombies and killed?
Seffy pressed the heels of her hands to her forehead. It hurt to think. Hurt to breathe. And did any of it matter? Even if she untied every knot and unearthed every secret of Fugere, one thing would remain unchanged.
Her husband was gone and he wasn't coming back.
Unless he appeared in her dreams.
Chapter Sixteen
Seffy felt drained after her nap instead of refreshed. She'd returned to her room, washed her face, and curled up on the couch, still clueless how to proceed. Her very bones seemed weighted by sorrow—like some kind of sickness, some cancer.
The dreams drained her too. When she wasn't dreaming about freakish experiments with needles and test tubes, she was dreaming about Trent. But his presence haunted more than comforted. He was always there waiting for her, but she could never make it to his side. Was it some message from the Great Beyond? Or did it just represent her current psychological state of twisted misery?
She thought of Addison's tears from the other night. How low did her friend have to feel to seek solace at her side? I guess that misery is spreading. Maybe Fiona was right.
But there was no point in telling Addison to move beyond Gareth. To do so was hypocritical. In fact, Seffy wondered if it weren't for Trent's inherent pushiness maybe she wouldn't have looked past Gareth to another possibility.
Probably true. She'd been stuck in the past until someone shoved her into the present—in the past. Ugh.
Now she just had to hope memories of her husband would be enough to sustain her future. At least her memories were better than her dreams.
Seffy got off the couch and decided to head over to Olga's. The woman offered a few answers once in a while, even if she'd been transformed from maternal to suspiciously scary.
And this time I'll make sure to avoid needles.
The halls were empty, but she also noticed some of the fluorescent light tubes above had gone out, leaving shadowed sections along the curving corners. Other lights flickered in varying intervals. Well, if it wasn't creepy before—wait a minute. It's always been creepy.
When she arrived at Olga's door and knocked, she didn't know what to say. Her thoughts were still conflicted over whether the nurse—er, the uber-smart scientist doctor lady—was a villain or a savior.
Did she save lives in order to do more experiments? What other freaky deaky things had she done in her lab in the name of science? Had she been behind the psychotropic drugs pumped into her system despite assertions to the contrary? If so, why? What would making me mental have to do with using my blood for research purposes? Would artificial chemical components adversely affect the outcomes of her experiments?
The door swung open. Olga blinked in surprise.
“What's psychonautics?” It was the first thing that came to mind.
Olga blinked again and widened her door for her to enter. Inside, Seffy looked around to see if anything seemed different. Same overstuffed furniture, same doilies, same flowery rug on the floor.
“I didn't expect to see you so soon after—”
“After stabbing me in the leg with a needle?”
The older woman firmed her lips. “I believe I explained why I deemed such action necessary.”
“Do you have another syringe handy? Just in case I go all maniacal—which can be a side-effect of psychotropic doping, or so I've heard.”
Olga sat down on the edge of a chair, her spine stiff. “I'm offended you still think I had anything to do with that, Seffy. I'm not a chemist.”
“So who is responsible for drugging me out of my mind?”
She lowered her gaze for a moment. “I'm not sure about that.”
“And yet, those responsible also wore Haz-Mat suits.”
“It was never me, Seffy. You have to believe that.”
Wanting to believe someone and having all the facts in a place where lies floated around like drugs, well, the reality put her in a pickle. “I'm sure you have some idea. In the staff lounge, there must be some highly trained, oily scientist types who fit the profile.”
Olga looked like she'd swallowed a lemon. “I understand you're distressed, but your attitude doesn't help matters. I'm not the bad guy here.”
“You've said that before. Mind telling me who is?”
“If I knew—if it would make a difference—I would.”
“Cagey answer...just like Ruskies make.”
Olga rolled her eyes.
“So what do I call you now? Dr. Olga?”
“You may call me by any title you like, but I would hope you still consider me a friend.”
Seffy almost said 'let's not get hasty,' but the words would just earn another disapproving look. “What is psychonautics?”
Olga leaned back against the chair cushion. “I'm sure you must have some idea. It's where the most...controversial experiments were done on the patients who were considered to be the most troubled.”
“Like frontal lobotomies?”
She cleared her throat. “It's possible, but I have my doubts. Chemical lobotomies, perhaps. Both practices fell by the way side a long time ago.”
“I told you I once found spikes and rubber mallets in the drawers in that hallway.”
Her expression darkened. “There are other uses for those instruments.”
“So what kinds of experiments were done there?”
“What may have started out as an effort to ease troubled minds and psyches unfortunately shifted into more sinister experimentation with the consciousness. Coupled with the 60s drug revolution, Soviet fears, and wrong-headed intentions, well, you can only imagine what was done in the name of science.” She leaned forward slightly. “And if anyone knows what went on in that hallway, it's you.”
“When's the last time that area was used officially?”
“That section was always locked before you and your friends arrived.”
Seffy frowned, finding that hard to believe. “If no one was involved in psychonautics here for years and years, why would anyone think to hide me there and have their experimental way with me?”
“I don't know, Seffy, but I was horrified when I found out about it.”
Seffy stared at the nurse/scientist, trying to discern any lies in her eyes. But what did it matter? Seffy was stuck here, and stronger people had drugs and weapons if they wanted to subdue h
er. A sixtyish woman in wedge shoes certainly had no problem.
“Now that you're here, I'd like to talk to you about something.”
Seffy crossed her arms over her chest. “Like what?”
“You remember Fenn mentioning something about whether your blood chemistry could help with his leukemia?”
“Ever since you survived the zombie virus, I've been researching whether I could come up with a way to combat his cancer with your blood.”
“And let me guess, right before I got here today, you were down in your skeevy lab yelling Eureka!”
“I have come to a point where I believe we can attempt treatment.”
“What a coincidence.”
“Seffy,” she said, exasperated. “Fenn had to get clean from heroin before I could progress with my research. It is only recently that my experimentation has shown results.”
“How do you know you're ready? Don't you have to try it on a gerbil or some other adorable woodland creature first?” She slapped her hand against her thigh. “No wait, I'm the guinea pig around here.”
“In this case Fenn will be the guinea pig because he simply won't last much longer.”
Seffy raised a brow. “Am I supposed to feel sympathy at this point?”
Olga gave her best intimidating look over the top of her half-glasses. “I think I can expect you to do the right thing.”
“Which is?”
The nurse sighed.
Seffy smiled without humor. “I think the argument could be made that it's in my best interest for Fenn to die. Maybe my life would experience an uptick if he was out of the way. Maybe I could finally go home.”
Olga regarded her silently.
“You already have my blood, Olga. Give him the shot or whatever. You don't need my permission.”
“It's not an injection. It would need to be a transfusion.”
“But wouldn't that kill him outright? Wait a minute, I love this idea!”
The nurse's face took on a pained look. “If the transfusion does indeed kill him, then it will be the same outcome as if he didn't have the procedure done.”
Seffy remembered something to that effect with Trent. And yet, he'd died anyway. For real. She swallowed hard. “I couldn't care less. Take all my blood. It doesn't matter.”