The Units

by Jamie Mackay

Chapter 21

  Monday morning Tatum got up early and kissed Jake on the cheek, hardly able to believe that she was waking up beside him in the house that would, from that day forward, be her home. She rubbed her eyes and pulled her hair into a pony tail, intent on getting out for her run without waking anyone up. She pulled her runners on silently and then carefully closed the wooden screen door so that it wouldn't make its typical bang.

  In the cool and dark of the early winter, Tatum started her run down the long lane that led away from the farmhouse. She had dressed in her insulated running jacket, accompanied by her toque, scarf and gloves. In place of her run around the perimeter of town, she ran down the lane and then worked her way along the dirt roads lining the rural properties. Eventually the rural roads met the highway and Tatum started the run towards town. She had estimated that the run to WMI and back to the farm would take about an hour, consistent with her normal workout routine.

  Her run felt good, the cooler air allowing her body temperature to remain low despite her high energy output. She slowed as she neared the Units, knowing she would run to the far end and re-visit the inconspicuous door she'd discovered the week before. It was early and few would be up and around at this hour. It was a perfect time to get a closer look without anyone noticing, and this time she'd brought her keys.

  Tatum stayed behind the bushes as she ran around the outer edges of the grounds; she didn't want to take a chance she'd run into someone. Suddenly she heard a cracking noise, as if someone had stepped on a stick. She looked toward the building. Near the unexplained entrance Tatum saw Dr. Gagnon. She appeared to be sneaking around as if she were attempting to leave the building without being seen.

  June, what are you up to? wondered Tatum as she sat perfectly still, crouched in the bushes so as to be able to watch without being seen. She stayed in her camouflaged position until she was confident that June had left and wasn't going to return.

  Once she was certain she wouldn't be discovered, Tatum followed the same path June had taken a few minutes earlier. She moved the shrubs and vines that concealed the undisclosed doorway with extreme care and exposed the FOB reader she had discovered previously. Tatum rubbed her FOB against the reader, expecting to hear the familiar click. She had now been granted full access to the facility; so, she could think of no conceivable reason why all she heard when she swiped her FOB was a swooshing sound as it ran uselessly over the plastic machine.

  Discouraged at her inability to get any more information about the unknown doorway, Tatum started on her run back to the farm. The sun had started to come up and the dark had turned to daybreak. As she ran she planned her return to get a closer watch on who was coming and going from the vine-covered door. Jake had asked her to stop with her suspicions, and she had tried; but, she'd finally understood James, and she'd made him a promise as well.

  Coffee and breakfast were waiting for her on the table when she got back.

  "Good morning beautiful," Jake said as he watched her come through the door. "How was your run?"

  "It was really good," answered Tatum, neglecting to mention her excursion to WMI.

  "It's sure nice having you here," he said as he pulled her in for a good morning kiss.

  They ate and sat together over coffee, then Tatum showered and they headed into town where Jake dropped her off at work before venturing to his own office.

  .

  Tatum's week was full; it seemed as if she'd been scheduled extra to make up for the time she'd taken the week before. She spent her days going through the motions with patients, her mind constantly distracted by her new life with Jake or the strange events at WMI. Finally, on Thursday she found some time to re-visit her intent from the previous Friday. After lunch on Thursday, Tatum headed directly for the file room. This time she was alone and she knew exactly what she was looking for.

  Tatum went into the Unit Three room and flipped directly to the 'M" section. Mallard, Moltin, Mudder, Muller. Tatum pulled out the only Unit Three file listed as 'Muller, J'. Tucking it under her arm, she methodically went through the other files, finding full folders for all of her week's patients. While walking back to her office, she wanted to ensure that James' file looked unremarkable in amongst many other patient files.

  Tatum returned to her rectangular workplace and placed the pile of patient files on her desk. Then, she stood up and double-checked to make sure her office door was both closed and locked. Uninterested in most of the records, Tatum put all but one file in a neat pile at the corner of her desk. She pulled James' file to the center of her workstation and slowly opened the documents, not sure what she would find. The file seemed pretty typical, with the exception of its apparent dormancy, which was unusual for a current patient.

  James' file had not one single entry for nearly ten years. No need to write 'he sits by the window' over and over, Tatum thought as she considered the seemingly efficient lack of clinical notes. Behind the dated clinical record was the history of his commitment. James had been placed in the institution by his mother at not quite three years of age. He had been diagnosed with Autism at the age of two, and his mother had serious mental health issues. She was making the decision to give him up to the system because she felt that, given the pervasiveness of his needs, she was unable to care for him.

  Pretty typical intake thought Tatum as she continued to flip through the file. The rest of the file primarily contained dated medical intake records and accounts created about assessments completed in years past. Tatum had nearly satisfied herself that James' file contained nothing of particular interest when, at the back of the file, she found a single hand-written note. From the hand-writing it appeared to be written by a woman.

  Tatum started to read. "Dear James. If you are reading this letter you are probably an adult and have asked for access to your file. I hope that your life has been good and that you've been well cared for. I need you to know something that will always be true. I love you. I've always love you. I wanted to be there for you; I just couldn't. I'm not well and you need to be somewhere that can give you the care you need. Your father loves you too, but I can't leave him alone with three kids all by himself. You need more than he can give. Please forgive me James. I have only done what I think is right. Love always, Mom."

  Tatum stared at the letter for several minutes thinking about the pain James' mother must have endured in order to give up her youngest child. Then, suddenly, acting on what seemed like an entirely insane impulse, Tatum flipped back to the intake form. At the top it read James Muller. She carefully re-read all of the information on the page. Name, Birthdate, Date of Intake, Reason for Intake... Finally, Tatum got to the piece of information she was impetuously seeking, Name of Legal Guardian. Tatum looked at the signature on the bottom of the page. The person identified as having the legal authority to decide James' fate was J. Milligan.

  With no summertime heat to explain her physiological reaction, Tatum gasped. J. Milligan? Jennie Milligan? But his last name is Muller? Tatum thought back to her many conversations with Milligan.

  "He passed away when he was just over two," Milligan had said. "Jennie took care of all the arrangements. That time was such a blur. I basically remember the memorial service and that's it."

  Tatum caught her breath again. It can't be. It just can't be! Slowly, like an experienced investigator finally figuring out the crime, Tatum started putting pieces into place. Jennie had committed James 'Muller' instead of James Mulligan. To protect her son and her family, she'd let the rest of her family think James had passed away so that they could go with their lives without guilt. Committing her son under a false name was the best way she knew to protect everyone that she loved.

  But, one piece was still missing. If Jennie is dead and Jennie was James' mom, what does Six E have to do with anything? Tatum had some planning to do.

  .

  Back at her office, Tatum called Jake.

  "Hi Sweetie, it's me. Just wanted to let you know that I'm going to work a bit late," s
he lied to her husband-to-be. "Could you pick me up outside the main entrance around nine?" Tatum wanted to be sure she had enough time.

  She finished up her work for the day and then headed down to the cafeteria to grab a to-go lunch bag. The leftover prepared lunch would make a perfect snack for her to consume while she waited in the bushes. She returned to her office and bundled up in all of the outer wear she had worn earlier that morning, and then headed out the administration unit door, making certain that she said goodbye to Marja.

  Once out of the building, Tatum walked down the entrance corridor as she usually did, but instead of continuing down the street towards town, she looked around to make sure she was alone, and then she turned and concealed herself in the wall of trees that fenced WMI. As she'd done several times previously during her runs, she worked her way around the outer perimeter of the grounds, staying out of sight as she moved. Finally, she reached her destination and hunkered down, masked by her vegetative shield, ensuring she had a full view of Unit Six's disguised door. Then, she waited. Hours passed and not one person came or went from the veiled exit. Dark had set in completely, and although Tatum had eaten her bagged supper and did not feel hungry, the cold, dark air was beginning to be too much for her. She hadn't prepared properly for her unplanned stake-out, so the cold ground served as her seating place.

  She was just about to give up when she heard the faintest click. Unsure she heard anything Tatum listened intently and carefully watched the shrouded doorway. She heard the faint click again, and then a single face peered out from behind the vines. The face checked first left, then right, and then left again. Confident no one was watching, two orderlies exited the secret doorway, taking tender care to ensure all of the shrubs and vines used for protection of their secret remained intact. Once inspection of their camouflage was complete, Tatum saw the body language of the orderlies completely change. They became relaxed and nonchalant.

  Both orderlies were men she'd seen before in passing. Tatum was fairly certain they both worked on Unit Four. She listened.

  "Sort of feels like we're in some kind of spy movie, hey Jeff?"

  "Yah, a spy movie that pays us a lot of money."

  Both men laughed.

  Tatum thought about Marja's rumor.

  "I've just heard that you make more money if you work on the research unit," Marja had said.

  But for what? wondered Tatum. She knew one thing for sure, she intended to find out.

  .

  Jake picked up Tatum outside the front entrance at nine, just as she had asked. She'd returned to her office to warm up, not wanting Jake to notice that her face was red and her shivering intense.

  "Hi Honey," he said as she jumped up into the truck. "Long day, hey?"

  "Yah, just had some reports I needed to catch up on and I didn't want to bring them home. When I'm at the farm, I like to concentrate fully on Brady," she lied to Jake for the second time that day.

  Her day had been full, but not with anything she was prepared to share with anyone at this point, especially Jake and Milligan.

  "Remember you mentioned that we could insure your mom's old car so that I would have a way to get around without always having to depend on you?"

  "Yah."

  "Do you think we could insure it tomorrow? If I'm going to be working late sometimes, I'd rather be able to drive myself."

  "Sure. I'll take care of it in the morning."

  "Thanks Jake," replied Tatum, not explaining any further.

  .

  Friday morning Tatum returned to the inside of the Research Unit, but on this visit, she was interested in more than just her new Center. Tatum waited through the morning and patiently worked with the research assistants as she always did. But, as soon as the lunch hour came, she fled the Unit like a woman on a mission. Skipping the cafeteria, Tatum headed straight to her chair beside James.

  "Hey James, how you doing today?" she started, only to make the conversation seem slightly normal. She continued, "I'm having a pretty good day. It's been a pretty eventful week. I'm in the Research Unit today. Hey, do you remember when I told you I'd try and find out what you meant by 'mom six E'?" No response. "Well, I'm trying, but I'm not really sure where to start. You don't like the Research Unit much," Tatum said more to herself than to James, as she tried to talk herself through the information that she already had.

  Wait! Six E! Suddenly it dawned on her and she couldn't believe she hadn't seen it till now. Of course! She thought to herself as she slowly started to piece it all together. Unit Six's secret door; Unit Six E!

  Tatum got up suddenly, said a quick goodbye to James and speedily headed to Unit Four. She had a few minutes before she needed to be back at the Lab, and she fully intended to find out where her well-paid orderlies were working. For the first time, Tatum's determination overrode her good sense. She walked into Unit Four with no obvious reason for her visit. She boldly wandered through the unit, evaluating the faces of the men who worked there.

  Damn it! They're not here, she thought as she quickly moved to Unit Five to continue her search. Success came quickly. Right inside the door of Unit Five was the first face she had seen peeking out from behind the vines the night before. Tatum made a note of his name tag - 'Jeff Painter' it read. She gave a quick wave to the guard at the front, as if she had ample reason to be there, and then continued sauntering through the unit like she had somewhere to be. Out of habit, she turned toward the cell of the only patient in Unit Five with whom she'd ever spoken. Outside of Lee's cell was the second face from the other night. She encoded 'Owen Fulstone' into her memory. Then, to provide herself with a reason for visiting, Tatum called out to Lee.

  "Hi Mr. Trent, how are you doing?"

  She made small talk with Lee long enough that it seemed like he was her purpose and then she returned speedily to Unit Six for her afternoon workday.

  When she finally re-entered the lab, Garry commented, "Long lunch Tatum?" He didn't mind that she was late. He just wanted her to know he'd noticed so it wouldn't become a habit.

  "Yah, I went to see a patient on Unit Five. Had some crisis stuff going on. Took longer than I expected."

  Lying was becoming something of a habit.

  Tatum went to her desk. But, instead of working on finances for the Autism Center, she went to the administrative scheduling system. In contrast to every time she'd ever entered the system before, Tatum wasn't the slightest bit interested in her own calendar. She searched, and she continued to search, until she had full calendars for the next two weeks. She printed off the information that she'd found.

  At the top of each print-out, a name was listed for each schedule. The first schedule read 'Jeff Painter' and the second 'Owen Fulstone'. Tatum folded the schedules, looked over her shoulder and then slid the creased pieces of paper into her purse.

  .

  Later that evening, Tatum mumbled something about having reading to do, and encouraged Jake to head to bed without her. Tatum took a book called 'Sensation and Emotion' with her to the couch so that Jake wouldn't question her motives. Once she was sure the household had retired for the evening, she opened the schedules she had pulled earlier that day. Both Jeff and Owen had worked day shift on Friday. That meant they worked another day shift on Saturday and then night shift Sunday and Monday.

  They must do their dirty work on their days off Tatum rationalized, realizing she'd seen them leaving the concealed door on Thursday evening. Tatum looked again at the schedule. Monday evening would be perfect.

  She was well aware that the orderlies were not allowed to sleep on night shifts in case something happened with one of the patients. But, she was also well aware, that this rule was almost always broken. The orderlies took shifts. One watched the respective Unit while the other caught a few winks. Jake had a work trip planned for the following week and she could tell the MacKinleys she was staying with Sam. If Jake wanted to talk from wherever he planned to be, she'd tell him to call her cell.

  .

&n
bsp; Tatum spent the rest of the weekend trying to put James, Mulligan, Julia, and everything else out of her head for a couple of days while she spent some quality time with her new family. She knew the week ahead promised to be difficult. She would spend Monday evening investigating whatever was behind the shrouded door and then on Tuesday, once she had some more to tell, she intended to talk to Milligan about the huge secret she'd been keeping. She felt guilty about keeping it from him for so long, but wanted to be sure she knew she was right before she got him involved. She also intended to tell Jake, but not yet. He would just tell her not to get involved.

  .

  Monday morning Tatum kissed Jake goodbye as he got into his pick-up and headed for the airport. After he'd left, she slid behind the wheel of the Red Chev car that Jake had made road worthy for her over the weekend, and threw her overnight bag in the front seat to her right.

  "I'll see you guys tomorrow after work," she called out to the rest of the Mackinley clan standing on the front porch. She wanted to be doubly sure they would not to expect her home that evening. "Call my cell if you need anything. I'm not sure what Sam and I will do this evening," she added just to be sure that they wouldn't try calling her at Sam's house.

  .

  Tatum parked her car in the Regency Apartments parking lot. It would be the first time she'd used the parking spot attached to the apartment that she technically still rented until the end of December. Expecting to walk, she'd dressed warmly and barely felt the burn of the cold Saskatchewan wind that removed any potential of heat from the morning sun.

  As she entered the main building of WMI, Tatum once again made certain that she checked in with Marja. She wanted to be sure that Marja was in the know about all of her comings and goings. Tatum went quickly to her office and got right to work; she did not want anything to seem out of the ordinary today.

  At lunch hour she went to the cafeteria, hoping that she would run into Anne. As she expected, her trusted ally was in the hot lunch line-up talking with anyone who was willing to visit.

  "Anne," she called out to get her attention.

  "Tatum, honey. What's up?" Anne responded with a mouthy grin as she always did. "Joining me for lunch?" Anne asked hopefully.

  "Not today, unfortunately. But, I wanted to pre-book a date for tomorrow. Does tomorrow work?"

  "You bet," she answered enthusiastically. Tatum suspected Anne rarely turned down any offer for company.

  "Okay, meet you here at noon tomorrow then," confirmed Tatum.

  "Yup. See you tomorrow."

  Both women paid for the choices they'd made that day and went their separate ways.

  .

  Tatum's plan for lunch that day was to have a talk with James and also to be certain that he knew she wouldn't be coming by for lunch the next day.

  "Hi James," she started, "I need to tell you some stuff today, stuff that you may already know." Tatum kept her voice low so that no one else would hear. "I think I've finally figured out what you were trying to tell me. I've discovered a doorway; a concealed doorway, that it's obvious I'm not supposed to know about. I watched the door and there's people coming and going from there. I'm going to try to get in and see what's going on. I'm going to do that tonight. Also, I wanted you to know that I'm going to meet Anne for lunch tomorrow so I won't be coming for a visit; I'm going to talk to her about all this as well. But, I only wanted to tell you for now. Cause...I know can keep a secret," Tatum teased, knowing full well she'd laugh at her joke alone.

  .

  She worked diligently with her patients throughout the rest of Monday and then collected her coat and purse and deliberately exited through the Administration Unit where she could ensure Marja would see her leave.

  "Night Marja," she called to the desk clerk, with perhaps just a bit too much emphasis.

  Tatum completed the same route she'd walked the week before and then turned the same way and hid in the same bushes. Once she was confident she was alone, she walked back in the outer entrance of Unit Three and headed straight for her office. She walked quickly, desperately wanting to avoid running into anyone that she knew.

  "Hey Tatum," called a familiar voice. "What are you still doing here at this hour?"

  Tatum turned around and saw Larry, holding a clipboard and staring at her openly as he typically did.

  "Oh, just a late night. Lots of reports to catch up on," she said, hopeful her voice sounded steady.

  "Okay. Call me if you'd like anything, okay? I'll bring it right over."

  "Will do," Tatum called over her shoulder as she quickened her step.

  The next several hours seemed like an eternity. Tatum ate and then sat and reviewed her plans for the rest of the evening. Everything had to go perfectly, otherwise... Actually, she had no idea what would happen, but she was certain it wouldn't be good.

  .

  Around eleven, Tatum decided she had finally waited long enough. She put on the lab coat and clipboard she'd brought especially for this evening. She wanted to look as official as possible, without looking out of place. Keys in hand, she walked authoritatively toward Unit Five. As she always did, she ran her FOB over the reader and entered the Unit, trying her best to act as if her actions were nothing out of the ordinary. Once inside, she walked straight to the check-in desk and said, in a tone that she hoped indicated that no questions were needed, "Evening. Dr. O'Neill. I need to see Mr. Trent."

  "Hi Dr. O'Neill. Nice to see you again. But, why would you need to see Mr. Trent at this time of night?"

  This wasn't going to be as easy as she'd hoped.

  "I can't tell you much because of confidentiality of course." The guard nodded. "But, I can tell you he's having some nighttime issues. I'm here to take a look. Can't help him with something I don't really understand."

  "Yah; I guess. Okay. Sign here."

  Tatum had planned for this. She signed willingly. She knew from the last time she'd visited without permission that the guard paid little attention. As long as you wrote something, he was satisfied. So Tatum happily signed her name and she added her time of access as well, eleven sixteen am. Having passed her first hurdle, Tatum entered the Unit feeling a little less shaky. She headed toward Lee's cell. Aware that the guard was still watching her out of the corner of his eye, Tatum threw a little more wiggle in her step for good measure.

  As soon as she was certain she was firmly out of the oogling guard's line of sight, Tatum quickly turned the corner and crouched beside the wall separating the cells from the staff desk. She knew the desk would be empty. Either Jeff or Owen would be snoozing and the other would be roaming the Unit, making sure nothing happened while his co-worker napped. Tatum went into the back of the staff room, the only area in the entire Unit that wasn't perpetually on camera. On the couch right where she'd expected, she found Jeff belly-up on the sofa with his head tipped back and his mouth wide open. Tatum walked slowly toward him, making sure her feet hit the floor softly so as to make no noise.

  His snores were loud and rough, like the sound of a piece of unoiled machinery, and as Tatum got close she could smell old cigarettes and whiskey in his foul breath. Tatum stood by Jeff's oversized mid-section as she contemplated her plan for unclipping his FOB from his key chain. For the rest of the night, she would replace his FOB with her own, so that he wouldn't notice anything different. Tatum had checked, and during night shifts the orderlies almost never left their assigned units. Slowly and carefully she slid the FOB off his ring and replaced it with her own. Just as she was finishing, she heard him fart and then grunt and roll-over. Nice! thought Tatum as she left the room waving her hand in front of her face.

  She silently re-entered the hallway, holding tightly to the bounty she had just secured. She picked up her clipboard and stood up completely, regaining her authoritative disguise and then walked confidently back out to the entrance that she had come in. The guard looked at her questioningly.

  "I just forgot one of my observation tools," Tatum lied for the umpteenth time
that week. "I'll be back in a few."

  The guard nodded.

  .

  With the door to Unit Five closed securely behind her, Tatum stopped to catch her breath. Her heartbeat was doing double time and she needed to wipe her hands on her pants so that her clipboard didn't slip right through her sweaty hands. She hadn't much time. As soon as her head felt steady, Tatum gathered up her remaining courage and walked quickly toward the outside door. She wasn't about to waste any time returning to her office before she went on with the rest of her evening.

  It was late. She felt safe that no one would see her exiting Unit Five and moving through the dark around to the back side of the Research Unit. As she had done before, she carefully pushed the vines and shrubs aside and revealed the FOB reader that had previously denied her access. She ran Jeff's FOB over the same plastic security guard. Tatum heard the familiar click that she had so desperately longed for on her previous attempt. Armed with a detailed and believable story about what she was doing there, Tatum entered the unknown area as if she belonged there more than anyone else.

  Whew! she thought as she entered the first room, a room that appeared to serve as an entranceway to the remainder of the space, there's no one around at this time of night in here either. Tatum looked around. Nothing seemed all that unusual to this point. She was in what appeared to be the access point to a variety of other areas, sort of reminiscent of the layout of the labs on Units Six's upper floor.

  Tatum looked up. For the first time, she was confident that she would find what she had come for. The sign high up on the wall identified the reason for the well hidden, limited access Unit. The sign read Unit Six Experimental. Six E.

  She didn't know where to go first. There were four hallways, each one presumably leading to a different destination. Resorting to basics, Tatum started with the hallway furthest to her right that was labeled simply '1' above its entrance. Her fear had been replaced by unbridled curiousity and she gave little thought to running into a security guard or some other worker as she walked quickly down the short hallway.

  Once again she used Jeff's FOB and heard the familiar click as she entered the point beyond the first hallway. Tatum was disappointed. Beyond the hallway were three offices, typical researcher's offices with filing cabinets and book shelves. Having learned that, at WMI, sometimes things were not as they seemed on first glance, she entered the first office and looked around. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, Tatum entered the middle office. On the back wall of the middle office was a door. A door painted the same colour as the wall, with no trim or other raised parts that could be obviously seen on first glance. The only thing giving the wall door away was a small indent, big enough for two fingers that would allow the door to be pulled outward to open, and the flat hinges that were necessary for it to swing. Tatum tentatively put her fingers into the slot and pulled the inconspicuous door toward her. It swung open easily.

  Tatum stood dumbfounded. The other side of the door was beyond her wildest imagination. The three small offices, and presumably the other nine offices that fell beside those she had gone through, were fronting a huge warehouse type area of enormous proportions. The area appeared to be blocked into sections, with some sort of organizational structure that Tatum couldn't possible understand.

  The huge space was filled with cells, similar to the cells in Unit Five. But, the disfigured Unit Five residents looked like well functioning beauty queens in comparison to many of the people now before her. Tatum looked more closely into the first set of barred rooms. She saw nearly twenty men in one cell, all dressed in light purple.

  Men? she questioned her own assumption. She couldn't really tell if they were even human. Each of the men was missing nearly all of his skull. In place of the skull sat a hinged glass window. Tatum couldn't look away. The men's brains had been intentionally exposed and minimally covered so that they could be easily accessed. In the next cell, another group of many men were lying in their beds, each of them with an electric shock device around their penis. Tatum had heard historical accounts about such devices being used to complete classical conditioning with sex offenders, but it had been long since prohibited by all ethical boards everywhere. The third cell held yet more men, this time with entire sections of their skulls and brains removed, leaving huge craters in the front of their heads. Lobotomies, Tatum rationalized as she looked at them in horror. Cell after cell held groups of women or men, each victim to some sick experimental treatment Tatum had only read about in her history courses, always from the section about unethical treatments from the past that would never happen in the current day.

  In comparison to her visit to Unit Five, Tatum was unable to contain her nausea. She grabbed a mop bucket and vomited, not because her stomach was weak with pregnancy, but because she'd never been so sickened by anything she'd ever seen in her entire life.

  Finally, after several minutes of gawking at the cages, making up what looked like the world's sickest zoo, Tatum's stomach settled and her head felt less dizzy. She decided she'd better get going on what she'd come for.

  "Anybody here named Mulligan, Jennie Mulligan," she called out loudly enough that her voice reverberated through the large echoed room.

  She repeated herself.

  "Jennie? Jennie Mulligan?"

  Tatum paused and listened close. She presumed she wasn't getting an answer because, in a place like this, you wouldn't want to be singled out. Tatum decided on a different approach.

  "Jennie. If you're here, I just want to know. I won't do anything to you. I promise. James, your son, sent me."

  Tatum stopped and listened closely once again. Finally, a small, meek voice could be heard from the furthest back corner of the warehouse.

  "I'm Jennie."

  Tatum ran full speed to the cell that held the woman speaking. Like all the other cells, it held about twenty subjects. However, they looked much less damaged in comparison to some of the others. Tatum stooped at the bars and spoke.

  "Who said that?" She was almost shouting. "Who said that?' she repeated firmly.

  "I did," came the voice again. This time Tatum could see who was speaking. She was a woman of about sixty with a shaved head and purple issue. With the exception of her age, she looked the same as all the other shaved women in purple that Tatum could see in front of her. Tatum got close enough to the bars that she could see the woman's face. She had large blue eyes that were full of sadness; the kind of sadness and despair that can only be openly seen on the face of someone who has lost everything. She was thin, too thin. They all were.

  "Hi Jennie. My name is Tatum. I'm a psychologist and a good friend of James. He told me to find you here."

  Jennie looked frightened and Tatum realized that what she'd just said sounded suspicious, like a lie.

  "He told me using the only few words he has. It took me months to figure out what he was saying, but I'm here now."

  Jennie's face relaxed.

  "You look better than some?"

  Jennie finally found her voice again. "Our cell block is only drug trials, no surgery. Some nasty, nasty side effects, but nothing permanent… I don't think."

  Tatum was relieved. She didn't have much time; she couldn't beat around the bush.

  "Jennie, I also know your husband." Tatum realized she'd only heard Milligan's first name once; she couldn't remember. "I call him Milligan. He thinks both you and James are dead."

  Jennie nodded. "You do stupid things when you're young, things that sometimes you can't take back. I thought I was doing him a favour. I wasn't well. James was too much for him."

  Tatum nodded. "You did what you thought was best."

  "But now, what I wouldn't give to get it all back."

  "How long have you been down here?" Tatum asked the regretful mother of three.

  "Somewhere around fifteen years. After I committed James, I couldn't live with what I'd done and I became suicidal. As soon as they know you're on the verge, they figure out a way to move you down here. I've s
een it happen to so many over my years."

  "What do you mean?" asked Tatum not understanding what Jennie was saying.

  "Patients who are about to commit suicide," she explained. "They get moved down here; their families are told that they are gone."

  "Don't the families want a body?" asked Tatum, still in disbelief about what she was hearing.

  "What did they say about me?" asked Jennie, encouraging Tatum to put the pieces together.

  "You had shot yourself and the damage was so extensive the family shouldn't look." As soon as it was out of her mouth, Tatum understood. "Where do they get the bodies to give the families?"

  "Sometimes experiments go poorly and there are 'leftovers'. Some people don't have families who want a body. They become the spares."

  Tatum understood what she was getting at; she felt sick again. Suddenly Jennie's face changed.

  "He's coming. Hide!" she commanded Tatum.

  Jennie pointed to a barrel sitting beside the next cell block. Tatum ran and crouched behind the barrel. The night guard walked into the warehouse and ran his baton along the bars as he shouted.

  "Are all you circus freaks happy? It's nighty-night time so tell me now if you need anything."

  No one said a word.

  After he'd walked in between each of the cell blocks and had done the minimum he was paid to do, the guard left the same way he'd come. Jennie quietly called Tatum.

  "Tatum, you'd better get out of here. If they find you here..." She didn't finish her sentence.

  "I'll go out and get some help. I'll be back," replied Tatum.

  .

  Tatum went back out the same door she'd gone in. On the other side of the door, she looked every direction to make sure the night guard was nowhere to be seen and then she quickly walked through the office and out the hallway. There was no way for her to leave the evilness of the building behind her quickly enough.

  Taking care on her way out as she'd done on her way in, Tatum stepped slowly through the vines and then ran. She ran as fast and as hard as she could. When she reached the brushes that provided her with cover, she sat on the cold hard ground and took long deep breathes of the cool night air. She needed to re-establish her wits. She still had to go back to Unit Five and return the stolen FOB.

  Unit Five. That seemed like an eternity ago. Tatum picked up the lab coat and clip board she'd left in the bushes. Taking more deep breaths, she slipped the lab coat on and picked up the clip board, trying to regain her look of someone with authority. Seeing her workplace through completely new eyes, Tatum re-entered WMI through the Unit Three outer door. She went back to her office and picked up a test; she wasn't choosy, she just grabbed a box, something to make the guard think she'd gotten what she went back for.

  She walked quickly to Unit Five and rubbed her FOB against the well-worn plastic. She stopped and signed in again, "T. O'Neill. 12:05pm," she wrote, making certain once again that her visit fell during daylight hours. Tatum took the same route she'd taken before, hopeful that Jeff's turn on the couch wasn't yet over. It wasn't. She entered the back staff room, as quietly and softly and she'd done before. She knew right away that Jeff was still asleep. She could hear the grind of machinery and smell the grotesque combination of cigarettes, whiskey and onions. Tatum moved slowly and carefully toward the couch making sure not to make any noise with her steps. She clipped the FOB back where she had found it and then as carefully as she had gone in, she left. Tatum exited the back staff room standing tall and holding her assessment tools. She left as if she had every reason to be in Unit Five, and had not just seen the most disturbing scene she could imagine in the most twisted of fiction stories.

  For several minutes she stood outside of Lee's cell, watching him sleep and writing random notes on her clipboard. If anyone were watching and she doubted they were, she had done what she'd said she had come for.

  "I'm all done," she announced to the night guard as she started on her way out of the forensic psych unit.

  "Okay. Goodnight Dr. O'Neill. Have a good night," said the night guard as she exited.

  "Good night," she answered, wanting to make sure she was friendly enough that he wouldn't bother to check with anyone else about her reasons for being there.

  .

  For the third time that night, Tatum went back to her own office. The small odd-shaped office was starting to feel like a comfortable sanctuary from the craziness all around her.

  Politicians? Bought-off police? How could this be? Who is involved? Tatum's head whirled. It was different then when it had whirled in the past. This time she knew she wasn't crazy, but she also had no idea who she should go to with the twisted information she now possessed. Dr. Z! she decided. Her first call would be to Dr. Z. She was one of the few that would understand the magnitude of the ethical infractions happening in Unit Six E.

  Despite the fact that it was now early morning, Tatum dialed her teacher's number. The machine picked up.

  "Dr. Z?" Tatum said desperately into the machine. "I was right. I was right about everything. Call me as soon as you get this message."

  Finally, the madness of the last few hours and the lateness of the evening got the better of her. Tatum laid her head down on her desk and fell asleep.

  .

  There was no window with daybreak light to give Tatum a clue about the morning hour. She lifted her head off her desk and looked at her watch. Perfect! She thought as she inspected the clock. It was just after six. She could shower in the staff room and be back at her desk working before anyone came in and noticed that she had slept in her office. She showered quickly and then re-dressed, wearing mostly the same clothes as the day before. She had planned ahead and brought a different blouse. No one notices anything but your shirt anyway she had decided when she had been preparing to sleep at work.

  Once she had freshened up and removed all evidence that she'd spent the night in her office,Tatum walked out toward the Administration Unit. It was nearly seven thirty.

  "Good Morning Marja," she called out cheerfully to the desk clerk who was just coming in the main entrance.

  "Tatum?" questioned Marja. "You're here awfully early today?"

  "Yah. My knee's been a bit sore, so I skipped my run; thought I might as well put the extra time to good use, so I came in to do some catching up." Marja nodded. "Wanna grab a coffee before the rest of the crew gets here?"

  "Sounds like a great idea," responded Marja appreciatively. "I could use the boost this morning."

  Tatum and Marja sat for several minutes drinking coffee and making polite small talk. While Tatum visited, she planned.

  .

  Soon enough, WMI was buzzing with its typical morning activity. Nurses, doctors and orderlies arrived for the well-staffed day shift, and the sounds of now-awake patients were evident throughout the facility. Tatum returned to her office and checked her schedule. She would continue with her normal routine for the morning, and then during lunch she would talk with Anne. They would decide what to do together.

  .

  At just before noon, Tatum couldn't wait any longer. She headed down to the cafeteria and got in line, hoping that Anne would be only moments behind her. She grabbed two bagged lunches and two coffees and then waited by the dining hall entrance. When Anne arrived, she would be ready to head outside where they would have privacy.

  "Hey honey!" She finally heard the jolly voice of her trusted ally.

  "Hi Anne," answered Tatum.

  "Ready to go outside? I got you some lunch." Tatum held up her recent purchases.

  "Yah, sure. But, what's the hurry? You seem a little stressed."

  "I just need to talk that's all," replied Tatum.

  .

  The friends made their way out to the staff courtyard. It was cold and few employees were willing to brave the oncoming winter weather to enjoy the fresh air. They were alone.

  "Anne?" said Tatum, in a tone that let her friend know that their conversation was important.

  "Yes. Ta
tum, what's wrong?"

  "Have you ever heard of Unit Six E?"

  "Umm, no. Should I have?"

  "I don't know. I don't know who knows. I'm freaking out."

  "What? Why? Tatum. What's going on?"

  "It's a long story and I won't bore you with every single detail but I found a door."

  "A door?"

  "Yah, below Unit Six."

  "And?"

  "And it leads to Unit Six E."

  "What, pray tell, is Unit Six E?"

  "It's horrible, Anne. More disturbing than anything you could ever imagine. There are people with half their heads."

  The emotions of the past twenty-four hours finally got the better of her, Tatum started to shake and sob.

  "Tatum. What are you saying?"

  "I can't even describe it Anne. There were people in cages, like lab rats. That's what they are, lab rats. Horrible experiments with people, people that don't even look like people anymore."

  Anne's face was twisted in confusion.

  "You need to help me figure out what to do. I don't know where to go, who to tell. I'm scared Anne."

  "Okay. Settle down. First, are you sure? Maybe you just had a bad dream. You've had a lot of stress in your life lately."

  "It wasn't a dream, Anne. Please believe me," Tatum begged.

  "Okay. I believe you. Let me think." Anne paused, unsure of what to say to her distraught friend. "Okay. I've got a plan. Here's what we'll do. Go about the rest of your day just like you've done till now."

  "Okay," said Tatum.

  "We'll meet after work, in the bushes outside of Unit Six. You can show me where you saw this door you're talking about and we'll watch until we see who is coming and going. Then, once there are two of us with the same story we'll take it to the police. It will be safer if we both go, then they won't just brush us off as crazy and we'll at least have a name or two to give them."

  "I already know two names, orderlies that I saw leaving one day." Tatum thought about Jeff and Owen. "Dr. Gagnon too. I never saw her actually leaving the building, but I saw her around there one night while I was watching."

  "That's good. That's something to start with. But, I just feel like I need to see it for myself, okay? I just need a little bit more to go on. I'm not doubting you Tate, but to go forward with this, I'd be putting my job, my life, everything on the line. I just want to see it for myself before I risk it all. Is that fair?"

  Tatum nodded. She knew that she was asking her friend to give her blind trust about something so unbelievable that she herself would doubt anyone telling her the same story.

  .

  Doreen Zubert had been out late. She was celebrating the success of her long and hard-fought fight with the University to recognize her outstanding teaching and service work. University tradition required an international research reputation in order to meet the criteria for the highest level of faculty promotion. Doreen intended to challenge that tradition with the argument that an international reputation for teaching and service were equally as valuable to the scholarly tradition. She won. Dr. Zubert had been promoted to Full Professor and more importantly, she had shown the old boys not to count her out.

  Her long-time work friends were not going to let the occasion go by unnoticed and had taken Doreen out for dinner and drinks. Drinks turned into karaoke at an off-campus pub where the middle-aged professors were pretty certain students would be unlikely to see them.

  When she arrived home in the wee morning hours, Doreen had fallen into bed determined to sleep off the evening's festivities.

  It was after noon the next day when Doreen finally decided that enough was enough and she stumbled out of bed to the coffee pot. Her head hurt and she wasn't about to answer any calls from the University until the recovery from her self-induced flu was complete. After several hours of sitting on the couch in her pajamas watching smut daytime television, Doreen decided that the blinking light on her answering machine shouldn't be ignored any longer.

  Knowing a blinking light almost always meant somebody wanted her to do something she didn't necessarily want to do; she hesitantly pressed the play button and waited for the request for her services to come.

  "Dr. Z? I was right. I was right about everything. Call me as soon as you get this message."

  Dr. Zubert could hear the urgency in Tatum's voice. She stood for a moment and then thought about Tatum's stories of WMI. Rat surgery. She was right about the doctor who does rat surgery? she wondered, not knowing exactly what Tatum was referring to.

  It was now nearly four pm, and according to the time on the machine Tatum had left the message in the early morning hours.

  What the hell is going on? Doreen wondered as she looked up Tatum's home number.

  Finally she found the number of the apartment that Tatum had given her many weeks previous and dialed. The answering machine picked up. Doreen hung up and tried again. The phone in Apartment 203 was answered only by an automated voice for the second time. Dr. Zubert left a message.

  "Tatum. I got your message. What's wrong? Call me right back, I'm at home. I'll try your cell and office number too."

  .

  Tatum had left Anne after lunch, satisfied that she would be able to convince her friend of the evil lurking below them. Together they would make a report to the police or whoever else could put an end to the malice of WMI's lower level.

  It was nearly four thirty, almost time to go and meet Anne outside of Unit Six. Tatum left all of her personal belongings in her office and started toward the Administration Unit, where she would repeat her newest habit of using Marja to have a record of her comings and goings. As she turned to lock her office door, she heard the phone on her desk start to ring.

  The machine can get that. I've got more important things to do, she thought as she checked to ensure that the door had firmly latched.

  .

  Doreen was getting a bit concerned. Tatum didn't answer at her apartment, she hadn't answered her office phone, and her cell phone had gone straight to voice mail. She sat for a moment, trying to decide whether to chock up her call the night before to Tatum over-reacting, or whether she should go into full panic mode.

  Where is she? Doreen wondered as she made the decision that, for this one time, she was going to assume this wasn't a drill. She went to her computer and googled 'Sophie's Chicago' in hopes that there would be a phone number, a number for Tatum's parents. She had mentioned a man. Doreen tried to remember, Jake. I think his name is Jake. Then, up on the screen she saw the following review. 'Sophie's is an up-and-comer. The small, family owned restaurant has taken Chicago by storm. Sophie's founders Jerry and Sophia O'Neill...' Doreen stopped reading; she couldn't care less about how Sophie's was doing. She had what she needed. She used the online phone directory and looked up Jerry and Sophia O'Neill. Sophia answered.

  "Hello?"

  "Hello, Mrs. O'Neill? This is Doreen Zubert. I'm Tatum's supervisor at the University. I don't know if we've met."

  "I'm not sure. How can I help you?" Sophia asked the unknown voice on the other end of the line.

  "I am just trying to get in touch with Tatum. I think she mentioned a friend named Jake. Do you happen to know his last name? I can't seem to catch her at her apartment"

  "Yes. Jake Mackinley. She actually moved out to his family farm with him last week. I think that the apartment phone is still connected; she moved out suddenly. That's probably why you haven't been able to reach her. Has she told you her news yet?"

  Doreen was anxious to get off the phone, she wanted to find Jake.

  "No not yet. It's all good I hope?" Doreen asked politely continuing the conversation so as to not alert Tatum's mother to her fear for her daughter.

  "She and Jake are pregnant. And, they've decided to get married."

  "That's wonderful!" said Doreen sincerely. "That makes it even more important that I get in touch with her. I need to send my congratulations! You don't happen to have the number at the farm, or... Jake's cell phon
e number, do you?" Doreen asked hopefully.

  "Oh, of course, just give me a second, I'll grab them."

  The phone went quiet for a moment while Sophia looked through her well-organized address book for the recently recorded numbers.

  "Here it is," she said into the phone.

  Doreen wrote down the numbers Sophia read out and then politely thanked Tatum's mother for her help and hung up the phone.

  .

  Tatum left through the main entrance and then walked along her now well-known path through the bushes to where she and Anne had agreed to meet. She arrived first. Tatum crouched down in the undergrowth that was providing her with cover and waited, not taking her eyes off of the door that had recently become her obsession. Tatum sat quietly, having freshly developed her skills at remaining incognito.

  Anne will be here soon, Tatum convinced herself.

  No sooner did she have the thought than she heard a branch breaking.

  Good. She's finally here was the last thing Tatum thought before everything went dark.

  .

  When Tatum finally regained consciousness, she rubbed her eyes hard, trying to focus and figure out what had happened. She looked straight ahead and saw bars. Then she looked down and saw the chair she was tied to and her hands and feet firmly secured so that she couldn't move. Her mouth had been covered so that she couldn't scream. She looked around and realized she'd been here before. She was being held in a cell in Unit Six E.

  Tatum listened. She heard voices. It was men talking and they were getting closer. Finally, Tatum could see faces. Jeff and Owen rounded the corner and neared her cell.

  "What are we supposed to do with the good doctor until they get here?" Owen asked Jeff.

  "I don't know. Wait, I guess. How long were they going to be?"

  "Should be here any minute. I wonder who's taking the fall this time?"

  Both men laughed.

  .

  Dr. Zubert didn't waste any time. She started with the number for the farm. It was now almost six thirty. Surely someone would answer this close to dinnertime.

  "Hello," came a small voice on the phone.

  "Hello. Is Tatum there please?"

  "No. I'm sorry, she's not here right now," answered Brady politely.

  "Is your dad home then?"

  "No, he's not here either. Can I take a message?"

  "My name is Dr. Zubert, I work with Tatum. Do you know where she is?"

  "Nope. She hasn't been home since yesterday morning. My grandma might know. Do you want me to get her?"

  "Uh, no. That's okay," Doreen answered hastily.

  She hasn't been home since yesterday.

  "I'll call back later. Bye."

  She hung up the phone and immediately dialed the cell phone number that Sophia had given her.

  "Hello," came a deep voice on the other end of the line.

  "Jake?"

  "Yes. Who's this?"

  "This is Doreen Zubert. I'm Tatum's University supervisor."

  "Okay?" said Jake confused.

  "Do you know where she is?" Doreen asked.

  "At home I assume. I am just on my way back from the airport. I'm driving. I haven't been home yet. Why?"

  "I just called your house and a young boy answered. Your son I'm assuming? He said she hadn't been home since Monday morning."

  "Okay?" Jake said again.

  "Jake. I got a strange message last night. It was Tatum. All she said was that she had been right, right about everything."

  "What does that mean?"

  "I'm not completely sure, but she had some strange theories about stuff that was going on at WMI."

  "Oh shit!" said Jake. "I asked her to leave all that crap alone."

  "Well, I don't think she did. Anyway, she talked quite a bit about two people. A Dr. Gagnon, a rat researcher, and a young Autistic man named James. Jake, I think she's in trouble."

  "What kind of trouble?"

  "I don't know but I don't have a good feeling. You need to go to WMI and see Dr. Gagnon. You need to find her!"

  "I'm on my way right now. If you don't hear from me in a half hour or so... Call the police," said Jake as he sped the pick-up along the straight Saskatchewan highway faster than it was meant to go.

  .

  Jeff and Owen came into Tatum's cell still laughing and talking.

  "How's your day going?" Jeff asked her sarcastically. "You're awfully pretty," he continued with a tone that made Tatum's skin crawl.

  "Yah, too bad we don't get to make the calls around here. I know what I'd do with this one," Owen responded to his foul-smelling partner.

  "Why does it always have to be the pretty ones," stated Jeff, "I'd like to keep this one around. There's plenty of ugly women out there that could figure us out. The world could use a few less of them anyway."

  "Yah," was the only response out of the dull man he was talking to.

  When the dense orderlies were finally quiet, Tatum heard more voices coming toward the cell she was being held in.

  .

  Jake had made it to WMI in record time. He parked his pickup right at the main doorway and then ran full-speed to the Unit Six entrance. Unsure of even what he was about to do, he only knew that Dr. Zubert had said Dr. Gagnon was a researcher, so that's where he was headed. The Unit was locked. Everyone had finished their work day and gone home. Jake searched until he found a small red button, a doorbell that could be used for participants attending research projects that ran after hours. He rang the doorbell until his finger ached. Finally, a small frail-looking woman with a sour face came to the door.

  "Can I help you?" she asked without really meaning that she was prepared to help.

  "I'm looking for a Dr. Gagnon. Do you know where I might find her?"

  "Yes. What do you want with her?"

  "I need to ask her some questions about Dr. O'Neill, Tatum O'Neill."

  "What kind of questions?"

  "Do you know where she is or not?" Jake demanded.

  "I'm Dr. Gagnon," she replied firmly, "but I don't think I like your tone."

  Realizing what he'd just heard, Jake pushed the door, hard. June fell to the ground and Jake jumped on top of her and held her to the ground with his knee. He lifted his hand, more than prepared to strike a woman for the first time in his life.

  "Where's Tatum?" he ordered. "What have you done with her!"

  "Huh?" said June. "I don't know what you're talking about?"

  "Tatum is missing and the person she was most suspicious of around here was you."

  "Tatum was suspicious too?"

  Jake loosened his grasp, slightly.

  "What do you mean too?" he asked.

  "For years I've been keeping to myself, trying not to get noticed while I figured out what kind of twisted shit actually happens around here."

  Jake loosened his grasp further.

  "What do you mean?"

  "There's something sinister going on below us, I know it. But I've never been able to find any proof. Maybe Tatum has figured out in a couple of months, what I couldn't do in years."

  "Where is she? What do you mean, below us?" Jake demanded again.

  "There's a door. It's covered. I've tried to get in. My access doesn't work."

  "Did Tatum have access?"

  "I doubt it. I don't know anyone who does. I was never able to put the pieces together fully."

  "How do we get in? She left a message for her University supervisor. All she said was that she was right, about everything. Any idea what that means?"

  "It means we need to get into Unit Six E," said June standing up.

  She closed and firmly locked the door behind Jake and led him into the Research Unit.

  "This is as close as I ever got," she said as she walked Jake through the maze of hallways and offices where WMI's on-the-books research took place.

  It felt like an eternity as he followed her, wondering where she was leading. First June guided Jake back through the network of hallways to her o
ffice. He watched as she removed the file folders from the bottom desk drawer and removed the small handgun she'd hidden beneath.

  "I know," she said perceptively at Jake, recognizing his surprise at her possession. Wainwright was not a place where people kept guns in their desk drawers. "I just didn't know what might come up if I kept snooping around."

  Jake nodded. June showed Jake what appeared to be an upper floor furnace room. Weird, thought Jake knowing full well furnace rooms were rarely on the main floor.

  "I think this is here to keep maintenance workers from needing access to the basement," explained June, pointing the heating system in front of her.

  She led Jake around the furnace.

  "But, look at this. What would this be for?"

  June was pointing at a grate in the floor. It looked as if it had been an elevator shaft from years gone by; likely before the bottom floor was used for the wickedness that now existed. The grate had been concealed by a large, metal box, heavy enough to discourage any attempt at movement.

  "I couldn't make it budge," explained June.

  "Help me," said Jake as he started to push.

  Together they pushed until Jake thought he had exerted so much energy that he might pass out. Finally, the box started to move.

  "Push!" commanded Jake, forgetting to keep his voice down.

  The movement of the box was easier once it was started, and slowly, with great effort, they managed to reveal the previously concealed grate.

  "I don't know where it leads," warned June.

  "As long as it goes down, that's all I need to know," said Jake.

  He lifted the large grate and swung himself onto the steel cable that led to the bottom floor. To his surprise, June also suspended herself around the heavy wire and started shimmying herself down the large opening.

  At the bottom, Jake and June found themselves inside some kind of storage room. Presumably the retired elevator shaft had been converted into a store room. They opened the door carefully, hoping no one was standing on the other side. On the other side of the doorway, they saw a short hallway leading to a series of three offices. No sign of Tatum. Jake was confused, nothing seemed particularly out of the ordinary.

  .

  Finally, the voices came close enough for Tatum to hear. She couldn't make out what was being said until she at last saw the faces coming toward her.

  "Hey honey," she heard Anne say. "I'm really sorry about all this. We've just got too much at stake. You understand, right?"

  This was the first time that Tatum had heard Anne's voice sound anything but jovial. At the moment, it was dripping with a threatening and creepy tone that reminded Tatum of Cruella DeVille, the villain from the Disney movie 101 Dalmatians. Tatum couldn't answer.

  "You are too nosy sweetie. You should have just left well enough alone," she said as she unlocked the door.

  "Now what?" Jeff looked at the man with Anne who was obviously in charge.

  "I saw her visiting with Trent, yesterday," piped in Owen. "Does that help?" he asked hopefully, knowing their lucrative bonuses depended on them protecting this place.

  "Actually it does," said the man. "He's got a history. He can be our guy again. Here's how it will go. She went to see him at night for some kind of treatment session. He thought she was pretty; end of story."

  The man smiled; a twisted malicious smile.

  "Go get him ready. And, prep a treatment room. We'll bring her up after. She'll be found in the treatment room where he killed her."

  Tatum couldn't believe what she was hearing. The man in front of her was disciplined, concentrated and disturbing. His eyes were clear and his ability to plan and take charge unmistakable. This was the first time Tatum had ever seen Tim anything less than distracted and disheveled.

  "We're on it boss," said Jeff as he led Owen out of the cells, ready to embark on their new well-paid duties.

  Tim looked at Anne. He smiled his sickly smile and then kissed her long and wet on the lips as he pushed her up against the wall.

  "You're hot when you're nasty," he said to the nurse Tatum had trusted completely.

  "And you," he started moving toward Tatum. "You, I'm going to deal with right now. Gonna shut you up, just like the last little bitch that tried to interfere with our work."

  .

  June ran from office to office, looking for something, anything that looked out of place. Jake ran along behind, unfamiliar with the space but trusting his strange companion, more out of necessity than because she was someone on whom he would typically depend.

  "Here!" she whispered.

  June slipped her hands into the slot Tatum had found the time before and pulled. She and Jake stepped into the large warehouse that had taken Tatum's breath away. June was paralyzed. She could not believe what she was seeing. Jake had an MBA. He needed some help understanding what they were looking at.

  "It's a human experimental facility," explained June as she walked towards the cell full of men with glass heads.

  "Lab rats. Human lab rats," she said under her breath, more to herself than to Jake. "Unbelievable. Even I didn't imagine this."

  Jake interrupted her thoughts.

  "Let's split up, we'll cover more ground looking for her. Meet me back here in ten if you don't find anything."

  Jake ran to the right, winding his way in and out of the strange sights in the cells surrounding him. June ran to the left, slower than Jake, unable to avoid being captivated by the atrocities she was witnessing. There were experiments in sterilization, lobotomy and other types of surgeries she'd never seen before. There were social psychology labs entitled 'Coercion', 'Pain' and 'Discipline'. There were drug experiments for drugs whose names she'd never heard and couldn't pronounce. June tried to concentrate on her task of finding Tatum.

  .

  Tim came closer and closer to Tatum, spinning and molding a set of yellow issue patient pants. Tatum knew what he was doing. Using the pants to strangle her would mean that Lee had easy access to the weapon used to kill her. Tatum looked up at Anne, pleading with her eyes for the nurse to take pity and make him stop. Anne just stared, seemingly enjoying the twisted and sick scene she was permitting. Tim put the yellow noose around Tatum's neck so that the chair pushed backward with a loud bang.

  "There, now you're lying down, just like you'll be when they find you," Tim said in the voice Tatum had never heard before today.

  .

  Jake heard the bang. He turned toward the noise and started to run, faster and harder than he had ever run before in his life. He ran until he finally reached the spot from where he was certain the noise had come, and then he stopped suddenly and listened.

  "Sorry about his hun. But, we need to keep our little secret. The work we do; it must go on. Everyone wants it done, but no one else has the guts to do it."

  Jake snuck carefully around the corner so he could get a look at the woman talking.

  "I told you a long time ago to mind your own business. I tried to warn you sweetie."

  Tatum could barely hear the sound of Anne's voice, she could feel herself getting dizzy and the room was starting to go dark.

  Jake could now make out the large framed nurse. He came up behind her and then waited on the other side of the cell. He also saw Tim and the limp figure he was leaning over. Fighting his impulse to shout to her, Jake slowly slid the cell door open, hoping not to arouse the nurse who was mesmerized by the events before her. Then, knowing he had but seconds before he was discovered, he jumped onto Tim's back and put his arm around the doctor's neck, mimicking Tim's own hold on Tatum. Realizing Jake's intent, Anne pulled from her pocket the syringe she had prepared, just in case someone foolishly attempted to interrupt their effort to silence Tatum. She squeezed a little bit of fluid out of the end, and then, as Jake and Tim struggled, she held the sharp end of the needle up to Jake's shoulder.

  "Anne. Don't!" yelled June from just inside the cell door.

  Anne moved closer to Jake.

  June pul
led the trigger and Anne fell forward. As she fell, she completed her final act in defense of her life's work. She plunged the syringe deep into Jake's flesh.

  June watched as Jake's body became limp and his grip on Tim's neck loosened.

  Feeling his opportunity return, Tim tightened his grasp on the yellow trousers and pulled them as tight as he was able around Tatum's slim neck.

  "Tim. Stop!" yelled June for the second time.

  He didn't.

  June pulled the trigger again.

  .

  Tatum felt life returning to her body. She sat up, seeing the mayhem all around her, and realized Jake was lying nearly lifeless on the floor. Tatum crawled desperately toward her fiancé, hoping she could do something to stop what she knew was about to happen. Jake reached up with his limp hand and put it on her stomach. "Take care of them," were his final words to her as she sobbed into his hair.

  .

  "Tatum. We have to get out of here," June urged her recent rescue as she tugged at her arm.

  "I'm not leaving him!" Tatum said defiantly.

  "You have to," commanded June dragging Tatum as she fought.

  "Quick, this way. Follow me." June ran with Tatum in tow.

  Years of experience with the institution's layout gave her some idea of where she would find her way out.

  Then, as if someone flipped a switch, Tatum took the lead.

  "This way."

  The women ran out though the offices and down the short hallway that led to the stairs. Taking the stairs two at a time, they ran until their chests hurt. Tatum pushed the main door open, for the first time not caring at all whether the greenery on the other side was destroyed giving away her presence.

  "Look!" called June.

  Tatum looked out the door and saw enough red and blue to decorate a Christmas tree.

  "I wonder how?" asked Tatum out loud.

  "Who cares how," was June's only reply.

  .

  June spent the next several hours leading the investigators to Jeff and Owen, taking them on a tour of the vile downstairs facility, and making phone calls in an attempt to figure out how Unit Six E patients could ever be taken care of with any sort of dignity. Tatum just sat in shock.

  .

  On Tatum's advice, Jennie was the first to leave her Unit Six E cell. She became the primary informant to the police, leading them to Dr. Fraser, Larry the unit head, and multiple politicians with no morals. Jennie had overheard enough conversations over the years to put everyone involved behind bars.