Eden shows me to the room I’ll stay in for the next few days. It’s small, a tiny window near the ceiling and a corner closet two feet wide and deep. It’ll work for the time being. I set my bag on the lumpy bed with a gray flannel comforter. “How’s your leg?” I ask Eden.
“It’s healing really well. I’m more worried about my head,” she says half to herself as she sits at the end of the bed in front of me. “I’ve been having strange dreams that feel like memories, but I know they’re not.” She bites her lip and rubs her hand over her injured thigh. “You’re in a lot of them.” That’s what I was afraid of. Any of it returning to her.
With a mechanical sounding detachment I reply, “You’ve developed an obsession with me?” I’ve perfected an unaffected tone and dismissive look. I can’t tell anymore if that’s me or my training.
“I don’t know what to think of you,” she says softly keeping eye contact with me. “I’ve studied psychology for six years… I’ve delved into trauma response psychology. One of my professors studied serial killers. He said never trust survivors, until you know what they did to stay alive.” She looks at my bag and then down at her hands. My heart skips a beat. She’s so close… I could touch her. Just reach out and touch her soft curls.
“You shouldn’t trust me. You shouldn’t trust anyone.” I move back and lean against the wall. “If you’re having dreams that are odd, it just means that you’re overthinking everything.” Those memories need to stay hidden. If they get any indication, she has them back, they won’t just shoot her in an extremity as a warning. She’ll die from suicide. Like so many others.
Laughter comes from the stairs as Blaine and Caleb walk up. Caleb can be heard saying, “You know, there might be treatment for the way you talk.” Blaine starts to laugh harder.
Eden stays seated on my bed when I thought their arrival would make her run. Slowing outside the doorway, both halt and stare wide eyed at us. “The fuck?” Blaine moves into the room. “Did the Center open a branch in this fucking rental, what are you doing here now?”
Caleb laughs in discomfort. “Like I said, your language is terrible. Hey… ah, Hutton.” Gone is the ‘avenging angel’ and I’m relieved that he’s past what the slurry of drugs were doing to him. Although I do miss some of the insipid behavior.
“Let’s not make this a big deal,” Eden says sternly to Blaine. “It’s just for a couple of days.” He stuffs down the tirade that was building in him. Caleb just nods in agreement. The way he feels about Eden is all over his face. She could order him to do anything, and he’d do it. If I was willing to trust a single person I’ve met, he’d be it. I don’t think he’s capable of deceit.
“What about protective custody?” Caleb asks cautiously, “Are they here, too. This seems less secure than the Wellness Center.”
“It’s done.” My tone leaves no room for further discussion and an awkward silence descends in the room before Eden stands brushing against my arm. She startles and apologizes scooting away from me.
Blaine edges in between us like I’ll strike her for touching me by accident. His protective nature makes me dislike him a little less. Caleb lingers after Blaine and Eden tell him that they’ll get the movie ready that they were planning to watch. “Here.” I reach into the pocket of my bag and thrust the envelope with the drug testing results towards him.
He takes it carefully, and flushes as he looks through the contents. “Are… are these about me?”
Nodding, I pull my bag down and kick it towards the wall. “Yes. You heard or saw something you weren’t supposed to. If you remember what it was… keep it to yourself. Don’t trust anyone.” Even issuing the warning, I know he won’t keep it quiet. He has no real grasp of the danger he’s in. Unlike Eden, that gunshot was meant to kill him. It’s only a matter of time before his life ends at their hands. Maybe, if he’s discreet he can prolong it.
“That’s not true. What? What could I have heard or seen?” He pales as he holds his hand out to the wall to study himself. “How do you know that?” The drugs would have killed him if he didn’t take care of his body. The workouts and eating healthy clinched it. Just like their brainwashing tactics on me, the more I did to keep myself in fighting shape, the less it worked. The drugs could dull, but not completely diminish my faculties. It might be the only gift Lawrence ever gave me.
“Why can’t I tellyou?” Caleb folds the results back up and puts it in his pocket.
“You’re not this dumb.” I roll my eyes at him. “I told you… no one. Trust no one.” Especially me. How could I explain to this God loving, peaceful, and sweet human being that I’ve been turned into a weapon. I may or may not be used to kill by the very same people that used me for testing my whole life. Number One’s voice plays in my head frequently, “We formed you, Adam, we’re your creators. For the Naturalist Order World. When we tell you the Time is now...” I fought their brainwashing, my body burned off the drug combinations, and I played along. The more emotionally detached I behaved the more convinced they were it was working. I tucked my true self so deep; I can’t find it.
Tomorrow, I plan on finding my way back to Camp Carroll. The FBI could have found and destroyed the evidence of the government’s dealings with the lab’s testing, but I have hidden things around the Camp. I hope I can find Achilles, she threatened to kill him to get a reaction out of me. It’s only been a few months; he may be back in the woods. My heart twinges. I’ll leave a letter for Eden, in case I don’t make it back, with the thumb drive.
The mouse is about to tempt the cat back to the beginning in order to trap it. If it works, I’ll kill her with my bare hands. She left me alive on purpose. Knowing the dose of drugs wouldn’t do it, and not pressing as hard on my throat. Why? Another form of torture. I’d get the blame or live with the memories. All those people murdered at her hands in a fit of rage. I never want to learn she contributed to my DNA. If she really is my biological mother, death would be a better alternative.
22. KEIR
“Where did your green shirt go?” Mom folds our laundry onto her bed, as I put my pencil down. She’s been making me take notes on a book she found for me to read. Knowing that because it’s an adventure story, I’d stick with it. I don’t want to tell her that it was ripped off me and has blood on it. That means we’ll have to circle the reasons why that would be. In these moments, I hate her. Acting like she doesn’t know what’s been happening to me.
“Don’t know.” I put my head back down and press the pencil into paper breaking it in half. “Shit.”
“What? Did you just swear?” Give me a break. We can’t discuss my abuse, but swearing is bad?
“Sorry,” I whisper.
“I have a meeting tonight.” She pauses and a look of distress crosses her face. “Stay in here and finish the book, okay?” I want to throw the book at the wall and scream at her. I don’t have a choice if I’m ‘collected’ from the room tonight and disappear for a few days.
She’ll act like I never did when I get back. We can’t upset Louis by asking questions or being angry.
Putting down the worn denim button up she wears frequently, she turns to me. “Sam…”
I whip my head up. “No… you never call me that. My name is Keir and when we’re alone you never call me that.” Her smile takes on a malevolent look and her face twists. It’s not my mom anymore. She starts to laugh at me. I know this face, but my mind fails to register the name. She shakes her blonde curls and her dark blue eyes glitter with destruction.
I wake up out of breath and sweaty. Still in the hospital and having nightmares. Lately the nightmares end with the same woman. Familiar but she’s a stranger to me. Could it be what happened to my head? The doctor says that people react differently to head injuries.
A knock at the door gets my attention. The female doctor and the police officer, thank goodness, walk in. “Keir, this is Agent Scholl, can he join us today?” It’s about time.
