Mirrors by Ted Dekker Page A

place at the push of a button. Enough to freak out anyone not thinking things through. Easy enough to construct. The main point is that anyone who would go to such elaborate planning has thought this through very carefully. We aren’t just going to walk out of here.”
    To this she had no response. Her mind was stuck on what he’d just said about the closet being enough to freak out anyone not thinking properly.
    Like her.
    “We have to think our way out,” Austin said. “Talk our way out. Scam our way out. Something they haven’t thought about. Until we figure what and how, we have to play along. The last thing we can afford is to push Fisher’s buttons. We don’t need him thinking he needs to go further.”
    He’d said this much repeatedly. She got it. His repetition of the concern wasn’t helping matters.
    “And there’s no way they could be right about us, right?”
    “We aren’t nuts,” he said with a little too much defensiveness for her comfort. “It’s absurd. I was in a lecture hall at Harvard this morning. I got a call from you. The professor asked me if I would be interested in attending full time! I can assure you there’s not one loose nut in my head.”
    He was right, of course, although she would have put it differently. They had both always been different. And neither one of them could remember much of their childhoods.
    “What about your headaches?”
    He blinked several times, then spoke in no uncertain tone.
    “Neither one of us is remotely unstable. You just remember that. Don’t let them get in your head. We’re going to get out. Soon. I have a doctor’s appointment to get to.”
    The door opened and she startled. Kern Lawson walked in, shut the door behind him, and faced them, void of expression. He put on a smile that made Christy think he savored both his role and his element.
    “Hello, my friends. Sorry to keep you waiting. Wait, wait, wait.” He flipped a hand. “Sometimes I think all there is to life is waiting. Waiting for things to get better. Waiting for things to get worse. Waiting to find out what’s going to happen or not happen. Life can be a pain.”
    He walked to end of the table and pressed his fingertips on the surface, like one of those jungle trees that had roots above ground, reaching down. He was now wearing a white lab coat.
    “I like to give our new arrivals a cursory orientation personally. Have a seat, Alice.”
    Alice.
    Christy glanced at Austin, who remained calm, then slid into the chair opposite him.
    “There we are.” Fisher stood erect and paced slowly to one side then back before continuing.
    “The first day is always the hardest for any patient, but I’m not one to throw sedatives at the first sign of resistance like most understaffed facilities. It only masks the illness and prevents true healing. The sooner you both accept your conditions and adapt to your new environment, the sooner we’ll be able to appropriate the correct therapy. Make sense?”
    He didn’t wait for a response.
    “By now you already know that getting out isn’t a solution. Neither is it possible. Please tell me that you understand at least this much.”
    Waiting for Austin to take the lead seemed natural, so Christy let him give his nod before she did.
    “Now, Scott…” The man held his smile for a few seconds. “I know that your particular condition probably has you thinking through solutions without end. You’re certain you don’t belong here, and you’re probably already hatching a way out, so let me help you by cutting to the chase.”
    His smile vanished.
    “All the exits are electronically controlled, and I’m not talking about the simple push of a button. There’s no cell service inside. The few lines out of the facility are monitored twenty-four hours a day and require electronic signatures to operate. We have a total of forty-seven patients on two floors. This floor is for those who present neither a flight risk, nor any threat to patients or