Blaine lightly touches my uninjured arm and looks me in the eye. “You shouldn’t go back, either. Not until this has all been figured out.”
Jed, Blaine, and even Matt when we talked earlier all told me to get out of the program and not return to the Wellness Center. The problem is that something inside of me is telling me I have to go back. Even if Eden isn’t. Most of my life I’ve been told I’m the ‘Chosen one’, the next Prophet of the Holy Brotherhood. It felt like a sentencing and not an honor. Lately, I feel God has chosen me. These trials I’ve been encountering since I left feel like the lead up to my purpose. Maybe I can discover what’s happening at the Center. I can’t do that if I leave.
I give him a half nod but keep it to myself. Fighting with Blaine is the last thing I want to do. He’ll have all the right words and reasoning to counter anything I have to say. I’ve never felt confident communicating with people, but in my heart, I know my decision is the right one. That’s all I need to know.
12. LUKE/MATT
Staring down Dr. Richardson, the Center director, his flustered demeanor is only making me angrier. “You’re telling me that you… and your board have rallied to get Belmont and HBO executives to continue the study and documentary? I’m stunned. Not long ago, I sat across from you as you listed all the ways having the FBI here, Belmont students, and the film crew were safety hazards for your patients. Do you remember that?” I keep my voice steady, even if it’s dripping in sarcasm and disdain.
He straightens his tie and gulps. “I assure you that we’ve carefully considered… the uh, the… issues we’ve been faced with and in the long run this will benefit the patients. The optics aren’t the best right now, but once HBO airs the documentary, all the work we do here will get the highlight that is deserved.” This pompous fucking fool. Let’s just forget the unknown danger lurking around the next corner.
“One of your employees lost his life.” My tone is flat. “He was the guy that cut the lawn, so you don’t care as much?” I could have left the accusation off, but it’s clear that the board doesn’t consider the loss of a menial employee that shocking or worthy of better safety measures.
“Now… how dare you,” he blusters as he sits up straighter and points a stubby finger at me. “Your agency failed to do your job and that’s not on the Center or the board. In fact, things became dangerous as soon as you were here.”
“The last I’d heard Dr. Hart wanted to pack up and leave. He thought enough had been done with the study and they had their footage. Why is Belmont continuing with this farce?” My face heats and my jaw ticks. Hart’s ego may be monstrous, but even he saw that things were getting out of control.
Dr. Richardson isn’t fond of me. Not only is he glaring at me with a look of utter hatred clear to read, his fists are balled on his desk like he wants to reach out and strangle me, but he’s reining it in. He should hate me. I’ll destroy him. Everything about this man if Eden loses her life because he insists this study and documentary continue to the end. “I owe you no answers. This Center is run on donations and federal funding. Both are in jeopardy if we make public the events of this summer. It’s so easy to sit there looking so smug when you aren’t in the hot seat. I not only answer to the board, I have the lives of these patients on me, too. For the record, I never wanted X… or whatever you call him, here at the Center. It was the worst possible idea from the very beginning. This all comes back to him being here.”
I can’t refute that. Whatever is happening may be linked to him in some way. “I’m not the least bit smug. Disgusted, maybe. Not smug. You may be rid of X soon, but the FBI, myself in particular, aren’t going anywhere yet. There is an ongoing investigation and if you think I’ve been intrusive up to this point, it will only get worse. Ms. Davis was attacked not once, but twice by someone here.” His eyes widen at that. Since we covered the drugging, he had no idea.
“What are… what?” He leans forward in his chair and his ample belly pushes his chair back when it hits his desk. “I don’t know what kind of story you’re cooking up…”
I cut him off before he can finish his accusation, “Twice. You don’t know everything that’s happening within these walls. Clearly.”
“When you say intrusive… what does that look like?” His voice at an almost growl. “You’re going to scare away our patients.”
“Anyone here a month prior to our presence won’t need to talk with me. That leaves four of your residents and I’ll do another interview of your staff. Whether you want to admit it or not, someone here isn’t whoyouthink they are.” My phone starts to vibrate in my pocket and I take a quick peek to see that Blaine is calling.
“I have to get going. Just so that we’re clear. The FBI isn’t going to sidestep the study, HBO, or your board. We get full access to anyone and anything we ask for.” I don’t give him time to start arguing with me again before I’m striding from his office.
I pause just outside the Center and consider lighting up a cigarette but abandon the idea. I only started back up this summer and it’s better to kick that habit before it’s back in earnest. “Is Eden alright?” I ask him when he picks up.
“Did you tell her that you would work on getting her released early?” He sounds pissed. Like usual.
“Just to pacify her.” I almost laugh to myself. She’s been restless, wanting justice, and downright fidgety being bound to the hospital room. “She isn’t going anywhere until her leg heals a bit more.”
“I can’t fucking take this.” He blows out a breath. “I hate this fucking hospital.”
“Are you staying sober?” I have to ask. I know how he’ll react, but damnit, I care, and I know I shouldn’t.
“Fuck off.” Yeah, figured I’d get a variation of that. “Like you give a shit.” Ah. Back to this. I’ve tried to explain that I wasn’t trying to betray Eden and him. At this point, I may never get him to believe me.
“I’ll swing by the hospital after I meet with Rick. Are you hungry? I’ll pick up some food for everyone.” By everyone I mean Eden, Caleb, Blaine, and me. Caleb has been opening up a little to me and scratching below the surface with him has been fascinating. He’s a genuinely sweet guy.
“Fuck me. You’re like the human version of a migraine. Trying to act like a fucking parent or something. No. I have no appetite. Eden could use something other than the slop offered here. Caleb likes French fries more than most people like their lives. He just might start praying to them.” I chuckle to myself. I might be breeching his walls a little at a time.
“Got it.” I’ll still get food for him. Whether he wants to admit it or not he’s not taking care of himself.
Rick wipes his hand over his mouth and groans, “At what point would he have been able to get state of the art cameras, multiple cell phones, two... not one but two goddamn firearms, three army grade knives, one he gave to someone who stabbed you with it, and two laptops? How the hell…?” Perplexed Rick leans back in his chair and stares up at the tiled ceiling of Hutton’s room. The one that Rick, Todd, and two other agents combed through. Hutton is currently in a meeting with Dr. Xiong and for the first time Rick seems to be realizing just how dangerous he is.
“The theory was he was an innocent victim. Someone needing protection and someone that had been sheltered from the world. Bad working theory to start with and then once we all realized that he was a genius we never readjusted anything.” Rick pulls one of the laptops over and is trying to hack into it. He'll never get in. Even if Rick has extensive Tech training and some hacking skills. I would bet that Hutton has firewalls for his firewalls.
“Well, he didn’t slaughter the others at Camp Carroll, so what are you trying to get at?” Rick murmurs to himself, absorbed in what he’s trying to accomplish before Hutton returns.
“All the signs were there from the beginning that he knew things he wasn’t supposed to know. He was being trained to withstand some kind of coming apocalypse. He’s dangerous, but…” I don’t think he’s the bad guy.
“Yeah? Spit it out…,” Rick urges me on. He hates me being critical of the Agency. But this rests on us. We never took the proper precautions when it came to him. There were times we didn’t think he was physically able to do anything but lay in a bed at Quantico after the massacre. Obviously, he was busy planning something.
