Page 45 of Anarchy Chained: Alpha Thomas

“I think I should take you to see Sheila after all. It’s been five days already, so—”

“Five days?” What the fuck? How the hell did five days go by?

“—I don’t think they’re still looking for us. At any rate, we need to meet up with Lincoln and Case. Make sure the plan’s still on track.”

“What fucking plan? The one where we all admit we’re insane and we’re out to destroy the world?”

His face screws up. “Maybe you should rest a little longer? You’re not all here.”

Again. Mind blown. Incredulous isn’t a strong enough word to describe how I feel.

I take a deep breath, hold it in for the count of three, and let it out. “I’m going to leave now. No need to worry about me anymore. No need to drop me off somewhere.” I get up and straighten the new shirt he bought me. “And thank you for the hospitality and clothes. I appreciate it. A lot,” I add, trying to be as congenial as possible so I don’t set him off and drag that psycho alter-ego out of that fucked-up head of his.

“You can’t just… leave, Sadie. We need to see Sheila. I’m sorry, OK?”

“Sorry for what?” I ask. Picturing his hands on my body. His lips on my mouth. His grip on my mind.

“The mind blast. I didn’t realize, I guess.”

“Realize what?”

“I mean, I couldn’t know. I had no idea you’d be in the direct path of the blast. I did it out of instinct, I guess. It wasn’t conscious, not at all. So if you’re worried I’ll do it again—well.” He laughs. “I don’t even know how to do it again. I think it was just the perfect set of circumstances.”

Yeah, the perfect moment is right. The moment when his insane double personality took over and hijacked his body.

“And I’m sorry for leaving you hanging in the shower.” He laughs again, but this time it might be genuine. “I just kinda…”

I wait for the rest of that, but he shakes his head and smiles. His eyes aren’t as dark when he smiles. Not this smile, at least. “Just kinda what?”

“Like to be in control.”

Control? He’s so not in control.

“You’re cute, you know? And I’m not just saying that because I’ve been locked in a hospital for a month. You’re just… pretty. And a little too young,” he adds, shrugging. “Which I like… but probably shouldn’t. In fact, I should just stop fucking talking because I’m digging my hole deeper with every word.”

I laugh. Because he’s… different. Not that cocky asshole he was before he drugged me this last time. He’s definitely nothing like the nightmare version. He’s just a guy right now. Just a guy trying to figure shit out.

“Let me take you to Sheila, OK? I swear to God, she will hook you up to Lincoln’s diagnostic shit and come up with a plan in less than a day. She can fix it.”

He has no clue. None. If that wasn’t a nightmare. If that other him—that Sullivan guy—if he’s real and what he said is true… then I’m compromised from within. I have something inside me. Something in my brain. Something that will let people control me.

“Maybe I don’t need to know my memories. Maybe it’s just better to start over. A new day, so to speak.”

“That’s not gonna help.” He says, stern look on his face. “You can’t live in denial. It always comes back to haunt you. Better to deal with reality than push it down into some dark crevice of your mind, ya know?”

I don’t know how much to tell him. What if he does go insane if I let him know his second personality is back? What if he loses his mind for real? What if I’m locked down here and can’t get out? I don’t even know how to get out!

So I decide on half-truths. “I had a flash of memory just now.”

“What’d you remember?” he asks, walking towards me. He sits down on the bed. Not too close. Not so close so we’re touching.

“Do you think we have these powers—this mentalist and illusionist stuff—because they did something to our brains?”

Thomas nods. “For sure.”

“And you think I was sent to kill you? How do you think they got me to do that?”

“Programming,” he says. “You don’t know anything, Sadie. It’s pretty evident you’ve been under their control your whole life.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Programming. Maybe they put something inside me? Like a computer?”

“There’s an interface inside my brain, so you probably have one too. You’re not as developed as I am. I’m pretty sure of that. My hardware was for Alpha testing and you”—he laughs—“are clearly not an Alpha.”

“Can you see words?” I ask. I wish I knew what this was.

“Words?”

“Like across your eyes. Messages?”

“No,” he says. “That’s some real science-fiction shit right there. The interface is just impulses. It triggers neuronal pathways in your brain. Gives you… urges.”

Urges. None of this is good.

“Let me take you to Sheila. She’ll know—”

But an alarm goes off. A deep, prolonged buzzer. Ent. Ent. Ent. Something ominous. Lights begin to flash.

Thomas looks up at the ceiling as I cover my ears. “Time to go,” he says. But I can’t hear him over the repeating buzzer. I only see his lips. He leans down in my ear and says, “They’ve found us. Follow me.”