her blanket and handed it to Franny. Five minutes later, she told them thanks and headed to her room.
Fury caught up with her outside Building 50.
“I’m leaving for a couple of days,” he said, a little out of breath. “Something’s come up.”
He wore jeans and a corduroy jacket, looking very un-Fury-like.
“Concerning the Oklahoma murders?”
“Mainly an unrelated case. But I have people trying to establish a solid link between the Oklahoma massacre and the deaths of your parents. So far, nothing but the MO to connect the two. There was never much in the way of solid evidence gathered from your—” He stopped.
She got it. Small-town cops were ill equipped, in more ways than one, to deal with such carnage.
“You have my cell phone number?” Fury asked.
“In my room.”
“Call if you need anything. I’d hoped to be here tomorrow when you started the first phase.” He seemed worried.
“No big deal.”
“I’ll be back in a day or two.” She nodded. “Everything will be okay.” She didn’t know what difference it should make to him.
The next morning, Arden got up early, jogged, showered, and headed to the Mercy Unit and Project TAKE. Even though it wasn’t yet eight o’clock, the building was humming. People in lab coats rushed up and down hallways, and the energy in the structure could be felt on her skin. Doctors were being paged, and people pushed medical carts from room to room.
A busy place. She couldn’t remember if it had been that busy when she’d been involved with the program before.
TAKE was located on the first floor, in a solitary wing.
They were expecting her. “We are all so excited to have you here,” said a perky young blonde as she poked around at the back of Arden’s hand, trying to isolate a good vein.
“Why am I getting an IV?”
“Saline solution.” The girl taped the needle in place and released the rubber tubing on Arden’s arm with a loud snap. She straightened and opened the flow wheel on the drip bag. “To make sure you don’t get dehydrated. Do needles bother you?”
Arden glanced up at the saline bag hanging from the metal rack. “It’s just that these things make me think of being sick.”
From there, she was put on a gurney and wheeled into a room that appeared to have been last updated in the twenties. Green tile on the walls. Heavy porcelain, pedestal sink.
Dr. Harris stepped into the room and closed the door.
He smelled like woodsy aftershave again, but underneath that, she detected an unpleasant scent. Something she didn’t like and couldn’t place.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” He pulled a syringe from the deep pocket of his white lab coat, uncapped the needle, and prepared to inject the fluid into her IV.
“What’s that?”
“Something to help you relax and make the time go a little faster.”
“No, I mean what is it? Exactly.”
“A mild sedative. It will also help to make you more susceptible to our suggestions. It’s part of the protocol.” He looked at her. “Would you rather I didn’t use it?”
“No.” They’d used drugs before, but never an IV line. Who was she to complain about a mild sedative? “Go ahead.”
“Remember that you are in control. At any time during this process, you can stop everything. You can say you’ve had enough. Understand?”
She nodded. “Go ahead.”
He injected the drug.
Within seconds, heat began to spread through her body, and her muscles grew limp.
“That’s it. Don’t fight it,” he said. “Let us do all the work. You don’t have to do anything but relax.”
She drifted. Floated. Lost track of time.
Dr. Harris addressed someone else in the room. Someone Arden couldn’t see.
“Take her down to the basement and through the tunnel to Cottage 25.”
Arden tried to speak, tried to protest, but she couldn’t move.
She finally placed the smell.
Like corroded metal. Like rubber.
Like an isolation tank.
Chapter 11
Smells.
Salt water.
Disinfectant that
Fury caught up with her outside Building 50.
“I’m leaving for a couple of days,” he said, a little out of breath. “Something’s come up.”
He wore jeans and a corduroy jacket, looking very un-Fury-like.
“Concerning the Oklahoma murders?”
“Mainly an unrelated case. But I have people trying to establish a solid link between the Oklahoma massacre and the deaths of your parents. So far, nothing but the MO to connect the two. There was never much in the way of solid evidence gathered from your—” He stopped.
She got it. Small-town cops were ill equipped, in more ways than one, to deal with such carnage.
“You have my cell phone number?” Fury asked.
“In my room.”
“Call if you need anything. I’d hoped to be here tomorrow when you started the first phase.” He seemed worried.
“No big deal.”
“I’ll be back in a day or two.” She nodded. “Everything will be okay.” She didn’t know what difference it should make to him.
The next morning, Arden got up early, jogged, showered, and headed to the Mercy Unit and Project TAKE. Even though it wasn’t yet eight o’clock, the building was humming. People in lab coats rushed up and down hallways, and the energy in the structure could be felt on her skin. Doctors were being paged, and people pushed medical carts from room to room.
A busy place. She couldn’t remember if it had been that busy when she’d been involved with the program before.
TAKE was located on the first floor, in a solitary wing.
They were expecting her. “We are all so excited to have you here,” said a perky young blonde as she poked around at the back of Arden’s hand, trying to isolate a good vein.
“Why am I getting an IV?”
“Saline solution.” The girl taped the needle in place and released the rubber tubing on Arden’s arm with a loud snap. She straightened and opened the flow wheel on the drip bag. “To make sure you don’t get dehydrated. Do needles bother you?”
Arden glanced up at the saline bag hanging from the metal rack. “It’s just that these things make me think of being sick.”
From there, she was put on a gurney and wheeled into a room that appeared to have been last updated in the twenties. Green tile on the walls. Heavy porcelain, pedestal sink.
Dr. Harris stepped into the room and closed the door.
He smelled like woodsy aftershave again, but underneath that, she detected an unpleasant scent. Something she didn’t like and couldn’t place.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” He pulled a syringe from the deep pocket of his white lab coat, uncapped the needle, and prepared to inject the fluid into her IV.
“What’s that?”
“Something to help you relax and make the time go a little faster.”
“No, I mean what is it? Exactly.”
“A mild sedative. It will also help to make you more susceptible to our suggestions. It’s part of the protocol.” He looked at her. “Would you rather I didn’t use it?”
“No.” They’d used drugs before, but never an IV line. Who was she to complain about a mild sedative? “Go ahead.”
“Remember that you are in control. At any time during this process, you can stop everything. You can say you’ve had enough. Understand?”
She nodded. “Go ahead.”
He injected the drug.
Within seconds, heat began to spread through her body, and her muscles grew limp.
“That’s it. Don’t fight it,” he said. “Let us do all the work. You don’t have to do anything but relax.”
She drifted. Floated. Lost track of time.
Dr. Harris addressed someone else in the room. Someone Arden couldn’t see.
“Take her down to the basement and through the tunnel to Cottage 25.”
Arden tried to speak, tried to protest, but she couldn’t move.
She finally placed the smell.
Like corroded metal. Like rubber.
Like an isolation tank.
Chapter 11
Smells.
Salt water.
Disinfectant that
Similar Books
