“They want me to lead them into an Aberration? Haven’t they heard anything I’ve said? That’s suicide, man. And an extremely horrible one, too. No way.” He shook his head. “No way I’d even mistakenly dream of voluntarily going anywhere near another one of those things.”
“That’s what I told them.” Nathan didn’t appear discomfited by the idea of venturing into a cesspool of madness and murder, but he’d never experienced an Aberration. Michael figured if he had, his preppy outfit would be drenched in sudden and frequent outbreaks of odorous sweat.
Nathan took off his eyeglasses and wiped them with a neatly folded handkerchief. “But this is the only way you walk out of here. They agreed to sign your release papers. Documents certified to return you to a public life, and sealed to prevent anyone from using your time here against you. I ran them past a trustworthy lawyer. They’re the real deal, Michael. I think Chimera is grasping at straws, desperate for any option they can find. You can use this to get out of here. Get your life back.”
Laughter exploded from Michael’s throat. He threw his head back and let the mirth flow.
Nathan gave him a quizzical glance. “I’m serious, Michael. This might be your only chance.”
Michael wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “You turning into a used car salesman now, Nate? Of course it’s legit. You still don’t get it, do you? They can make all the guarantees they want, because they’re not worried about me coming back. Anyone who volunteers to go into that hellhole is signing their own death warrants, guaranteed.”
He took a second glance at Nathan, who had developed a sudden interest in staring at the ground. “Wait a minute — don’t tell me you were duped into going?”
Nathan looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Michael felt as though the air had been snatched from his lungs. “You don’t know? What’s there to know? Other than you’ll be gutted like a pig in a slaughterhouse, most likely from your own hands? Do you know what happened to my coworkers at the mill? Do you?”
“I read the report…”
“Oh, the report.” Michael threw up his hands. “Letters on a piece of paper. You weren’t there, Nate. You didn’t see the things I did. If you did, you’d rather stick a pistol in your mouth and blow your brains out to spare yourself the agony repeating that torture. Christ.” He blinked back the tears that blurred his vision.
“I’m ready to go back to my room. I’d rather be imprisoned for the rest of my life than take up that offer. You have no idea. No idea at all. You and everyone on the team will be dead the moment you step in that facility. I’d rather rot in here than experience that again. Not again, not for anyone.”
Nathan was silent for a moment as a slight breezed swept across the square, stirring the leaves of the nearby trees. A raven sat on a low-hanging limb, swaying in the wind. It peered at Michael with knowing eyes.
Nathan sighed. “Not even for Cynthia?”
Michael’s heart nearly stopped. “Cynthia…”
“Listen, Michael. I don’t know you very well, but I do know you love Cynthia very much. I know you want to see her again. She’s had your child by now, hasn’t she? Are you telling me you’re willing to turn your back on that, based on the chance that this thing is really an Aberration? We don’t even know if it is yet.”
Michael had stopped listening. He stood and placed his hands on his head. “She’s had the baby. We… we have a child.”
“That’s right. You’re a father. One that won’t be in his daughter’s life if—”
Michael waved a hand to cut him off. “I’m in.”
Nathan paused with a puzzled expression. “What?”
“Just shut up. I’m in. Hell, how long have I been here?”
“Nearly a year. You didn’t know?”
“How could I?” Michael practically shouted the words. “How the hell could I know up from down in this place? They tell me nothing, other than I’m some insane mass murderer who needs a lobotomy.”
Nathan raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure they don’t do those anymore.”
“You know what I mean.” Michael paced back and forth, surprised at the quivering rush of adrenaline. He took a deep breath and forced himself to stand still.
“So I sign up and I’m free? No more of this watchdog stuff? I can come and go as I please?”
Nathan grimaced. “Not quite that easy. Until the mission is over, you’re my charge. I keep tabs, monitor your well-being, and make sure you show up when and where you’re supposed to.”
“So you’re my babysitter.”
“Pretty much. I know how it feels, so I empathize. But Chimera’s not fully removing their hooks until they get what they want.”
Michael nodded absently. “Fine, whatever. Just get me the hell out of here, Nate. How long will it take?”
“As quick as signing the contract, if that’s what you want. Is it?”
“Yeah.”
“Michael.” Nathan stared directly in his eyes. “Just a second ago you said you’d rather kill yourself than do this. So you really need to make sure, because once this starts there will be no turning back. Understand?”
Michael glanced at the tree, where the raven perched expectantly, as though waiting for his answer. The faces of his dead coworkers flashed across his mind; eyes wide and glazed, blood pouring from their mouths. He shivered.
“Yes. This is what I want to do.”
The raven cawed in a guttural voice and soared from the branches. A single inky feather drifted down and landed at Michael’s foot. He bent down and picked it up, staring at the glossy hues of black, purple, and green.
Nathan didn’t appear to notice, pausing to carefully wipe a smudge off of his shoes with one corner of his brilliantly white handkerchief. “Let’s get this done, then.”
“One condition.”
Nathan rose up and adjusted his tie. “You want to see her. I know.”
Michael felt his heart ram blindly against his sternum as though trying to shatter the bone. “When?”
“Now.”
Droplets slid across the surface of the window in haphazard streaks. The sky was gentle with the release, the rain faint as fog. Michael tried not to squirm in the back seat of the luxury Range Rover. He stared outside as though seeing buildings and sidewalks and traffic for the first time. It felt so strange to be outside. To be moving. He was almost afraid to close his eyes, afraid if he blinked he’d awaken in the confines of his sterilized prison again, a victim of another lucid hallucination.
He was so engrossed with the thrill of buoyant movement that he was startled when they pulled alongside a curb in an upscale yet unfamiliar neighborhood. He looked to Nathan, who sat beside him in the leather-cushioned interior.
“Why are we stopping?”
“Because we’re here. Piedmont Avenue area. Nice neighborhood.”
“Here? Where is this, Oakland? But… Cynthia lives in Birmingham.”
“Lived. She moved here when she learned where you were being held, Michael. They never let her see you.” Nathan pressed the intercom button. “Niles?”
A man responded in a courteous British accent. “They’re pulling up now, sir.”
“Ah.” Nathan turned as a Mercedes SUV passed them and pulled into a driveway two houses up. A tall man with dark hair and a professional face emerged from the driver’s side with an umbrella in hand. He quickly strode to the passenger side with the gentlemanly gesture of holding the umbrella for the woman who exited the vehicle. Michael’s breath caught.
It was Cynthia.
She beautiful as ever. Time seemed to slow as she emerged and offered the man a smile for his courtesy. Her hair was different, immaculately styled instead of loose and carefree like he remembered. Her clothes were different as well — a well-tailored skirt and blouse instead of denim and plaid. She even wore heels instead of sneakers.