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She bent low, her breath on his face. "Your pulse is going wild."

"They said, 'Welcome to the party.'"

"Who said it?"

The knock came again. Beyond the door, Bondurant shouted, "What's going on in there? Miss Rogers, did you get clearance for this?"

Freeman pushed himself up. He didn't want to be on the floor, not with them underneath it.

As the echo of the last scream died away against the curves of his skull, a lone female voice stood out, calm and crystal clear, saying a single word: "Free."

TWENTY

"We need to go to the lake," Freeman said, and Vicky instantly understood this was a new code, a secret language between them.

She couldn't read him quite as well as she had tricked him into believing the day before, but she needed to cut through some of his crap, skip that middle ground, and get to the heart of it all. This situation was bad and for the first time in her life, she didn't think she could survive it alone.

"Just don't try to hold my hand or anything," she said as they turned down the worn path that led between the boulders.

"I'll leave that for Deke."

"Don't be a jerk. Did somebody pee in your corn flakes or something? You've been weird today, even for you."

Freeman slowed when they were out of sight of the counselors, then pulled Vicky into a rhododendron thicket. "I saw them," he said.

"Them?" Vicky felt the blood drain from her face.

"The people underneath."

"The same them."

"You've seen them?"

"Last night, I…" Would Freeman believe her? She didn't know if she could stand keeping it in anymore. He wasn't triptrapping through her head either; at least she couldn't feel that strange tickle, so he wouldn't know for sure that she was telling the truth.

"Tell me," he said. "I won't laugh at you."

Sure. She'd never been laughed at. Vomit Queen was a term of endearment, after all. Daddy had never, ever criticized her. Mommy had never locked herself in her room with a bag of Oreos. And Vicky liked what she saw in the mirror. Sure.

Big deal if Freeman laughed. He was just another guy who thought just because he was finally growing his first pubic hair he was a real man, and it was common knowledge that all men were jerks. So even if Freeman were a jerk-in-training, she could bounce that laughter away like an overweight Wonder Woman blocking bullets with her golden bracelets.

"I saw a ghost," she said before she had time to change her mind for the third time about trusting him.

"Did you… you know, read it, or whatever?"

"No. I saw one with my eyes. I sneaked out last night-"

"Outside? You mean you know a way out of there?" Freeman pointed behind the boulders in the direction of Wendover.

"Yeah, but that's not important right now. Anyway, Deke chased me into the basement-"

"You were out with Deke?"

Had jealousy flickered across his face? "If you keep interrupting, we'll never get anywhere. Deke chased me into the basement, then I hid in the dark. There's all kinds of weird equipment, electrical generators and tanks and stuff. I think it has something to do with Kracowski's experiments. There's a bunch of rooms down there, too, like hospital rooms or jail cells. Deke went down one of the halls, and I followed him."

"Behold the power of love."

"Stuff it. We saw somebody, and I thought it was the geeky night watchman down there with a girlie magazine and a candy bar. But the person was shiny, and elusive as heck. I couldn't get a good look, but Deke followed him or her into one of the rooms. He started whimpering-"

"Deke, afraid of the dark? Wait until his goons find out."

"He screamed, and I got scared and left. But now I know what I saw. A ghost."

"It wasn't the man on the lake?"

She could smell the water, though it was hidden by the rocks. She wondered if the old man was out there now, doing his miraculous two-step. "No, I think this was a woman. If dead people have sex."

"Gross."

"I meant, are dead people either male or female? It's not like they need to reproduce or anything."

"I guess they stay whatever they were. The old man looks like a man, doesn't he? At least, as much of him as we can see."

"I don't know what happened to Deke, but I haven't seen him today."

"He wasn't in the Blue Room this morning."

"Well, none of the counselors are freaked out about it. They'd be running around like headless chickens if somebody ran away."

"They are headless chickens. How do you think they became shrinks?"

Vicky laughed despite herself. Freeman was a weird one, all right. Maybe even weird enough to trust some more.

Freeman grabbed her arm, squeezed her fat flesh. "Shhh."

Someone was coming down the trail. No, two someones.

Vicky pressed back into the thicket, but the branches weren't dense enough to completely hide them. "Do we run for it?" she whispered.

"Why? We haven't done anything wrong."

Dr. Kracowski passed by, with Dr. Swenson right behind him. Vicky put her hand over Freeman's mouth. His manic belligerence might drive him to yell some insult. She wanted to see where they were going, because they walked like conspirators, alert and quiet. If you wanted to spy on sneaky people, you had to be sneaky yourself.

When the pair disappeared around the bend in the path, Vicky said, "Let's follow them."

"You're really into following people, aren't you?"

"So I'm a stalker. Don't you have any curiosity?"

"Enough to kill the cat, but I suspect he died from rat poison. Which is why you shouldn't snoop around too much."

"Hah. This from the guy who brags about triptrapping through other people's heads. You don't mind your own business, so why should I?"

"Okay, okay. Let's go."

They pushed their way out of the thicket, Vicky's arms scratched by the branches. They climbed over the boulders and slipped through a dark notch in the granite. The two doctors had stopped at the water's edge, in a stand of young maples. It was the only part of the lake shore not visible from Wendover.

Vicky and Freeman hid in the shadows of the boulders and waited. The doctors talked quietly for a moment. Vicky's face itched, and she fought an urge to sneeze. Freeman squeezed her hand. How could he stand to touch such grotesque flab?

A man came down the path from the opposite direction. He was dressed in cotton slacks and a white shirt with the top two buttons undone. He was broad chested, tan, short, and he wore sunglasses. The man was obviously trying too hard to disguise himself as a mountain tourist.

"Doctors," the man said in greeting.

"Hello, McDonald," Kracowski said making no move to shake the man's hand. Swenson stood silent beside him.

"What happened last night? We captured the boy prowling around in the basement."

Freeman squeezed Vicky's hand more tightly. The visitor, apparently satisfied that no one was watching, removed his sunglasses. His eyes were cold as marbles.

"That was an unfortunate mishap," Kracowski said. "The security man has been properly scolded. Did the boy see anything?"

"Enough. We've got him in brainwashing right now."

"Please," said Kracowski. "I don't like that word."

"Right, Doc. What do you call it? 'Synaptic realignment'? Your technique may be new, but ours has a pretty decent track record."

"Not so decent that your bosses aren't interested in my work."

"We all work for the same boss. Don't forget who funded your equipment. You think liquid nitrogen and advanced superconductors are cheap? Not to mention the extra security measures we're going to have to take now?"

"You rented me, you didn't buy me." Kracowski knelt by the lake and stared across the water. "What do we do now?"