

Oculi

By Sasha McCallum

Copyright © 2019 Sasha McCallum

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this ebook, please encourage your friends to download a copy from their favorite authorized dealer. Thank you for your support.

Front Note: This book is a sequel and will make less sense without reading Said the Spider first. Said the Spider can be downloaded free here.

The story is fiction, towns, incidents and characters are the product of the writer's imagination.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Other titles

Prologue

I think some people, no matter the sector of life they come from, harbor inside them the secret belief they have not lived their lives well, that they could do more to heal the wounds of the world, or cause just a tiny bit more happiness to flourish.

The person I came to know and love as Carmel, held this; a seed of discontent that turned her love story into a journey of loss. When it came to a just cause, and while many people would have walked away, she stood with us and compromised everything she had, everything she was.

Sifting through what remained of their belongings, I discovered a memory card, containing a journal and the story of how she met the spider and they fell in love. A piece of her old life she couldn't bring herself to discard, and I couldn't bring myself to ignore. Carmel saw herself as self-absorbed, indulgent, but I hadn't met many people with as generous a spirit.

I don't have her humor or her humanity, but I take the reins in her absence, and write this in honor of her sacrifice, a continuation of our story, to the best of my recall.
Chapter One

A Hidden Life

Scientific experimentation on human subjects has occurred through all history. A large number of programs were uncovered in the twentieth century alone, involving surgical, chemical, radiation, infectious and mind-control experiments, performed without consent and directly funded by the US government, military and associated agencies. Often under the pretext of medical treatment, prisoners, pregnant women, babies, elderly, physically disabled and mentally ill patients have been used for tests that frequently involved long-term damage or death. Exposure meant public outrage which led to institutions and policies being inserted into the medical and scientific communities to prevent such atrocities from happening again.

The field of bioethics was born.

The legal implications meant individuals involved in human experimentation went deep underground and could, under no circumstances, be linked to an organization in power. Such individuals will always exist and, given enough time, will attract other, like-minded individuals - people who believe pain for a few is an acceptable price for their version of a greater good.

I was used by a group of these individuals.

In movies and mass media you get bad guys with principles - 'I don't hurt women or children', 'I kill painlessly', 'the people I hurt deserve it' \- always one thing or another. The boilerplate myth of the sociopath with the heart of gold.

The real bad guys, and there are plenty of them, they don't have boundaries.

It is a difficult task for a person who knows so little, to introduce themselves. I can say what I was, and part of how it came to be that way.

There were many things I didn't know about myself, facts others took for granted. I didn't know the details of my birth, who my parents were, I remembered no childhood, no puberty, no relationship; no love. A forced judgment placed me in my late twenties, roughly European heritage. My five regular senses were fully functional and no genetic or physical problems had presented themselves yet. By these standards I seemed normal, healthy, more so than I should, given how much of my history was unknown.

It was my extra sense, the one I had no standard to make comparisons with, which put me in the precarious position I was in.

Within my limited memories, I've always had visions of occurrences in settings separate from myself. The world has a name for it - remote viewing - which is strange because I've never heard of another living soul who can do it.

Because of this talent, my memories started five years ago when I was being held and experimented on against my will. I wasn't cut up or infected wantonly, the testing done was to learn about my extrasensory ability. The goal was likely to be able to harness, recreate and make money from it.

Perhaps they envisioned a world where everyone could have my sight - if they were willing to pay for it. Held prisoner with no illusions about what I was, I knew nothing of my captors and they had carte blanche to do what they wanted. I was never going to have knowledge of the outside world, let alone contact with it.

My detainers never looked at me or spoke to me like I was an equal, they gave me abrupt, expressionless orders. If I broke a rule or disobeyed a task, my punishment involved food or sleep deprivation. I was allowed no life, no warmth. My memories were wiped at intervals and I was medicated to keep me in a functional state.

Prolonged existence in these conditions is unethical, immoral; it effects the body and mind on a level impossible for most people to comprehend. How much of my life I spent with them and how many times they may have wiped my memory was anyone's guess.

This was not my life anymore; like anyone with a will to live and an opportunity, I broke free and ran.

I entered the world as less than human, as a construct with no place in society and no understanding of it.

It took a while, but my new identity fell into my lap like a gift and I accepted it with gratitude.

I met Bea Redding not long after my escape when I was living on the streets of Boston. We were similar ages, both transient, we even looked alike, though her lifestyle had aged her far beyond her twenty four years. We shared the same blond hair, blue eyes, and an identical five foot six inch height. Similar bone structure and dimples.

Maybe it was these simple things that drew her to me.

We would sit together occasionally at one of the homeless haunts and she would drivel about her childhood, her heroin haze making her poetic in her discourse. A gentle spirit, she had been beaten down by life and was destined to die an addict on the streets. She was the closest I ever had to a friend back then, but in my reduced position there was little I could do for her. Her problems were not through any fault of her upbringing, all connection to which she kept confined to pleasant memory. She told me about her parents several times, even gave me an address in New York and made me promise to find them. She was too ashamed of the person she'd become to confront her family again.

I listened, practiced my sight on her. With her, I realized my ability stretched beyond what I'd understood during my captivity. I saw her childhood myself, saw the happy girl she'd been, saw the loving parents who had adopted her.

Saw where it started to go wrong with her college boyfriend.

When she overdosed as a Jane Doe, strong emotions surfaced and keeping my promise to her became very important; I scraped together what money I could and paid for a bus ticket. It led me down the unexpected path to my new life. I think of it as everything falling into place rather than taking advantage of an unfortunate situation. I didn't set out to take Bea Redding's identity, it was just so easy and I needed it so badly.

Her mother hadn't heard from her for five years and wasn't entirely compos mentis when I arrived at her house in St Luke's, NY two months after the overdose, looking and smelling exactly like the street person I was. My intention wasn't to tell her her daughter was dead, it was only to do as Bea had asked and make sure she was okay, perhaps to tell her I knew her lovely daughter.

The widowed Mrs. Amanda Redding was sixty two and suffering from both cancer and mild dementia. She pulled me into the house and kept her arms around me for a good ten minutes, blubbering uncontrollably. It didn't take long for me to realize I'd been mistaken for Bea herself and make the decision to go with it. It was selfish yes, and also unselfish. She needed a daughter and I needed an identity, and neither let the other down. I nursed her through the worst of her illness and she looked at me with love in her eyes. When she died a year later, I felt I'd lost a mother.

She left me her house, her stocks in CVS Health and what savings she had in her bank.

More importantly, I now had a birth certificate, a history; I had a pathway forward. I used it, I forged ahead.

I was now Bea Redding. I had a high school diploma, two years of college education, and a clean criminal history. I owned a house and paid my taxes. Since I was a common shareholder, I was only required at board meetings occasionally, or to sign papers, but it provided a legitimate, steady and generous income.

As Bea became secure in her new environment, I built a second, more elusive identity behind her.

My alter ego, Laura Brams, used her sight to make a powerful ally in the underbelly of NYC. With his help, I accumulated a wealth of options should Bea ever be discovered as a fraud. I perched in a tireless position of paranoia, not just that regular authorities might single me out, but much worse - that my original persecutors would recapture and thrust me back into imprisonment as a research subject. I set up hotspots at several locations containing cash, identification, weapons and disguises, if the need to bug-out ever arose. I learned self-defense, became proficient with knives and guns, equipped the house with security best described as overkill, and never let my guard down.

Not a single soul could claim friendship with Bea Redding. She lived in zombie-land, without direction, almost without emotion.

For a while, I tried to find out who my oppressors were, but each time I thought I had something, it dead-ended. I gave up, the disappointment and fear too much.

My escape took place four years ago, but I was never going to belong. What was done to me was never acknowledged; no one was held accountable and I would always pay the toll for something beyond my control.

I lived alongside regular people, but in another world. My helplessness was the price of freedom.

I was alone, with no one to blame and no one who understood. My life was fear first, and later, anger. It didn't matter if I could hide what I was or for how long, these two emotions built the foundation of my personality, always bubbling under the surface, always with the potential to explode should the pressure become too great. For me, that pressure concealed a need for closure, for justice, for the emergence of a real me.

This odious truth didn't fully crystalize until I saw her. The spider. Dormant parts of my brain woke up and, if I drew one conclusion from my first vision of her, it was that everything was about to change.

*

It was a Wednesday. The 2nd of October. My lunch consisted of a low fat yogurt, an apple and a muesli bar; eaten at twelve on the dot and out of necessity not enjoyment. My days were rigorously scheduled, the routine offering the illusion of security - any diversion could be dangerous for a person always rubbing up against the outside of the box. This Wednesday a deviation was necessary - I was expected in the city to pick something up.

At one pm I checked every security camera, locked the house and made the two hour drive from St Luke's to lower Manhattan. Only one stop along the way was required; a public restroom situated in a busy park where I could safely don my guise as Laura Brams without being noticed.

It was a warm day for October; the heavy make-up, prosthetics and scratchy clothing I wore when meeting contacts like Rhys Morgan, made humidity more uncomfortable. The lobby of 319 Jarvis provided some relief as I stepped through the revolving doors and spotted him slouched in an arm chair. He rose, picked up the shoulder bag beside him and met me near the south wall with a nod.

"Is everything there?" I asked as he placed the bag on the floor between us.

"What you asked for. You've got the drives to install the right software?"

I nodded without meeting his eyes, instead staring toward the far wall where a painting of a black splodge was placed. The world seemed more ridiculous than usual when I saw pieces of art like this.

"What's your connection with Perry?"

He had never asked a question like that before. I looked at him. He was a small man, my height with a slight built and casual but expensive, designer clothing. It was his accent that singled him out more than anything; a thick British accent that I, with my lack of worldly experience, could not pin down to any specific location. His face was too whiskery and too inquisitive. He was aware he shouldn't have asked, and in response to my silence, he came close. I didn't back away but held my breath to prevent tasting his.

"I don't have any problem with you personally," he said quietly. "I'm curious is all. I'm told to get you whatever you need, and no messing. I don't get it. What makes you so-" His voice took on an ominous undertone, meaning it was time to shut it down. I'd weighed my options with this guy a long time ago, he was weak and just wanted to test me. Stopping him mid-sentence, I grabbed his arm and twisted it behind him, pressing his chest up against the wall. A few short, swift moves with zero resistance. It was unusually satisfying; I didn't get the chance to use my training often. Making a spectacle and showing my true strength was to be avoided.

That day was different, my patience was thin; anger was not being tempered by fear. The boiling point was apt given what was about to happen.

He hissed as I twisted his wrist further out, not a fighting hiss, a hiss of pain. I hooked my chin over his shoulder and spoke in his ear.

"Aren't you being paid enough?"

"Money isn't the..."

I jerked his arm again and he broke off with another grunt.

"You shouldn't ask questions."

The revolving door opened and someone entered the lobby. I moved back slightly but kept his arm held tight. He twisted his head toward a middle-aged woman dressed in a power suit clicking stiffly past us and grinned at her; a praiseworthy effort to trivialize the scene.

"Foreplay," he said with a wink and I caught her smirk as she headed toward the elevator doors. "You've made your point." I let him go and he straightened up, rubbed at his wrist and gestured toward my feet. "Why you need the ankle holster, I don't know."

"Mind your business," I said sharply. "I'm not a threat to you now but I could be."

"We should have dinner, you and me," he grinned again.

The suggestion was highly unusual. As Laura Brams I was about as unattractive as I could get. Rhys was a clever man, if he couldn't get answers one way, he would try another. He also liked his women dominant, never mind what they looked like.

For a moment I considered what dinner with him might be like.

Then it happened, everything changed. Without warning his smiling, stubbly face blotted over with static and I took a step back, tried to blink it away, fight it off, but this one was too strong. The static went black and... Twisted metal and trees.

A small clearing surrounded by thick pine and grey sky opened in front of me; a crashed helicopter positioned awkwardly on the edge of a steep incline, smoke still rising from its controls.

I saw her for the first time, a thin girl with a mass of dark curls, dressed in matching trousers and shirt of plain maroon. She rummaged in the machines corpse. Two men, each with a bullet hole in their forehead, lay within the wreckage. She searched their pockets, the cockpit and the cargo bay. Several Kit Kat's and a half-empty bottle of Evian she shoved into a bag with a small stuffed bear, then pushed it inside a larger bag where I caught a brief glimpse of cash bundles. She didn't linger; she took up a gun, backed away toward the tree line and fired several shots straight into the fuel tank.

When it exploded she held her arm in front of her face protectively. The scene was so powerful I could feel the heat on my own skin. The girl didn't wait to watch the flames, she threw the gun toward them, picked up the backpack, slung it over her shoulders, and disappeared into the trees.

For the past few years I'd had my visions well under control, they rarely struck in an awkward situation and when they did I was able to pretend it was something normal, a migraine or vertigo. This one was different, it hit without preempt and floored me.

When I came to, I sat on one of the chairs in the lobby; Rhys must have carried me there. He bent over me but backed off when I straightened up and glanced around.

"Okay, okay," he said and motioned impatiently at an older couple standing by with concerned expressions, "she's fine, nothing to see, just a fainting spell."

I stood up, forced a smile and mumbled apologetically to illustrate his words. They wandered slowly away.

"You've been out for four minutes," he said. "What just happened?"

"I'm narcoleptic, so what?" He didn't look convinced but that wasn't my problem. I owed him nothing and it irritated me that he'd now spotted a weakness, a truth - however much it could be misconstrued by a regular observer. "Next time, hey." I picked up the bag and pushed through the revolving door, leaving him staring after me.

As I walked away and my aloneness again enveloped me, I kept the vision and what it meant pushed far back in my mind. Not until I was out of the city and safely ensconced in the house could I allow the images and cumulating thoughts and emotions to infuse my mind. I knew once a vision so powerful had emerged and I concentrated on it, subsequent visions would present themselves, likely all as potent as the first. They couldn't happen in public; I wanted to experience them fully, without restriction.

The trip home took an eternity that day. As the cityscape gradually melded into wholesome suburbia and I made my transformation back into Bea Redding, I felt it - raging beneath the surface - excitement, anticipation.

At the house, I calmly keyed in the code to the front gate, parked the car and entered the side door.

After stowing the bag in the basement and returning to the kitchen, I allowed a slow trickle of emotion to begin alongside associated thoughts. I did not interrupt my daily routine. It was six o'clock, time to prepare my Wednesday night meal.

One carrot, one potato, twenty green beans. I lined them up methodically, and began to peel.

Someone else like me. An escapee, of that I was certain. Large questions loomed, feverish and impatient. Where was she? It was a mountainous, isolated area, it may not even be America. I'd never had a vision that spanned countries before, but this one was singular even in my strange repertoire of experiences, it was not out of the realm of possibility. I had never had such a detailed view of a person I had no clue existed, one which had popped out of nowhere. In itself, that meant something.

The ugly, oversized jumpsuit she wore, so similar to the ones I was supplied with for the first year of my memory. The haunted yet triumphant look in her eyes, the determination of her movements.

I thought back to my own escape. It had been very different than this scene but she surely felt what I did - that desperation only to get away. The bullet holes in the bodies, the burning helicopter. My emancipation hadn't required murder, but if it had, I, like her, would not have hesitated.

The bags, the cash, the teddy bear, the chocolate bars. The trees. The images filled my head, made my heart beat faster than it had in years and, as it did, the second vision came.

I felt it coming, expected it, hoped for it, now I was alone and could accept it without audience. I placed the knife beside the half-finished vegetables, sat down where I was and leaned against the counter.

This one was different, the image flickering and foggy; typical of a view to the past. The same girl was dragged down a corridor, she fought, screamed, to no avail. She was strapped to a chair, an albino rabbit, shaved, heavily wired, and strapped to its own tiny mechanism, placed on a table in front of her. My views into the past were always less vivid, lacking in peripheral detail; I could not make out the faces of the people who were working on her, nor could I understand what they were saying. But I knew she was resisting their demands; they were using electrical currents to shock her into submission.

What was done to me was a flagrant human rights violation; what was being done to her - that was torture. As much as I wanted to see more of the girl, know more, the sights were debilitating to witness after so long in my new, free life. When the image faded, I stood up and continued mechanically with my vegetables.

There was no doubt she was like me now. What they were trying to make her do was unclear; my testing had rarely involved direct contact with another animate or inanimate object. If she had an extrasensory ability, it was not like mine.

Even if its logic had been flimsy, I'd always sensed there were others, still in the situation I'd been in, prisoners with no future and no rights. The ideas were vivid and inspired so much emotion during the early years of my freedom, but had dwindled alongside the possibility of ever discovering the truth.

My plain, boiled dinner had taste and texture to it that night, my senses woken. Though its detail had been incomplete, the girls' past affected me on a much deeper level than her escape. Refreshed all the feelings of anger and pain that had lost their power over the years.

Greater than my need for her, was its reverse. She needed my help, without it she would almost certainly be recaptured, if she hadn't been already. There were many things that weren't clear back then, exactly how important she would become was one of them. But the choice was to seize the chance for some control, even if it meant simply denying them one of their guinea pigs.

Suddenly I was not alone, a counterpart existed, a stranger who could understand me. The sensation was addictive, terrifying and thrilling.

No way could I turn away from it. I would find her before they did; it was a risk, but rejecting it and remaining hidden meant continuing to live a pseudo-life.

What she looked like was fairly all I knew that first night, from there I could narrow search parameters - gender, approximate height, approximate weight, approximate age, etcetera. I began checking databases I had access to - a long, labor-intensive process that would likely end in disappointment.

Searching reports of helicopter crashes and missing helicopters was equally futile - that vision had been in real-time, if there were to be news of it, it would take longer to reach media, if at all.

I was a methodical person, there were advantages to this kind of work. It calmed me, knowing I was doing the only thing I could to discover her whereabouts. It also provided a welcoming backdrop for more visions - if they happened, they would not happen in an awkward situation. And they did happen; while my online searches rendered no results, the visions came with increasing frequency and intensity.

Bea spent the next two weeks in this way, barely stepping out of the house, fully engrossed in her new obsession. It is astonishing how two weeks can change a person. By the end of it I wasn't Bea Redding or Laura Brams, I was the infantile version of someone new, someone I was supposed to be. I had purpose.

The first week brought with it an average of five visions daily, and once, a total of eight. They ranged from thirty second to ten minute time spans. The shorter, less frequent, always noxious views to the past. From them I discovered they called her Aranea. Spider.

My real-time views were far less disturbing, but worried me nonetheless, especially while I was uncertain how it would play out. There was relief when I realized she had made it to civilization and was getting help, along with significant anxiety about this new woman who now had her under her wing. I knew the names they had given each other; Lark and Saffron. I knew it was somewhere in the United States, but had not been able to discover exactly where.

The spider was not eager to talk of her true situation, but, alarmingly, she did reveal her abilities to her helper. In doing so, she revealed them to me.

She was an empath, a touch prodigy. And she was powerful, her capabilities stretched far beyond the limitations of my own. They were physical as well as emotional, they could be used to affect others in a way I'd never dreamed possible. The visions of her past became clearer; they were trying to get her to a point where she was capable of killing animals with minimal skin contact. They were investigating her use as aggressive, as weaponry. It was logical when considering their intentions for potential use, and became laughable as I familiarized myself with the spiders, not only benign, but truly kind-hearted nature.

The more I saw of her, anger on her behalf blossomed above that caused by my own grievances.

But I wasn't getting the practical information I so badly wanted. What I was seeing, in frustratingly small snippets, was a burgeoning bond between the spider and her helper. By the end of the first week, I knew this meant something similarly obstinate as seeing the spider for the first time. It meant her helper was important, not a footnote, but more. Heedless of what I wanted to see, I was seeing what I needed to - an irreversible connection forming between the two, one that even they may not be aware of. What or how this was happening was beyond my understanding but it wasn't to be taken lightly. The subconscious is more discerning than is fathomable; it felt similar to being guided by an external force. It was something I'd learned to trust.

I relaxed into the personal scenes, expecting practical information to present itself eventually, and they became lengthier, more intricate entering the second week. The spider was doing well, but this rested solely on the fact she'd found this particular woman. It could easily have swung the other way with a busybody, someone who demanded answers and threatened consequences. Their interactions hinted at attraction, even love - guiltily, I was becoming hooked on seeing them. My interest in the helper heightened equal to that of the spider herself. She could be the key, the most efficient method to finding them.

I consider myself a good judge of character; I have to be. My observations of the helper both scared and reassured me.

She nursed the empath back to health, knew and accepted her abilities in a way that seemed too easy.

She was a striking woman. Watching her, I realized, it wasn't so much her looks that did it, but the way she used them; the way she held herself, the way she moved. She oozed confidence and charm, qualities which had always baffled me. A woman like her could be dangerous. The spider was falling in love.

It came as small surprise then to learn she was an actress; that kind of charisma was rare and didn't come from nowhere.

I developed an understanding of why she was the way she was. She'd grown into her beauty slowly and had taken a lot of abuse before it - she wasn't entirely aware of the power she held over people. She still carried the deep-set belief that it was only a part of her act, that underneath her mask, she was still that little girl who was told too many times she was nothing. I liked her for that; it inspired a form of deference, respect. Her charisma wasn't a lavish gift to be squandered, it had been earned and she didn't use it lightly.

Both women were using temporary names with each other, I ignored them. The empath became the spider and the helper, the pretender, their positions in my consciousness solidifying as such.

Although I suspected if the spider were to have a place in my future, the pretender would invariably have one too, the fact of it did not take full form until I witnessed her learn the truth to the spiders past and, to my shock, kill a man in defense of her ward.

It was only two days before these events unfolded that I finally managed to learn their whereabouts. Such a domestic scene in which they were dinner guests with an older couple, friends of the pretenders. I saw, with excitement, the map the spider stood studying, and the doctor fortuitously point out precisely where they were - a small town called Savage Falls deep in the mountains of south western Montana. After I saw, I booked flights that would deliver me to the closest airport terminal in two days' time.

But the wreckage had been discovered and a man had come. The spider was forced to tell the pretender the truth, her method for doing so leaving no room for doubt in the pretender's mind. My awe at the potential for the spider's abilities was renewed. With fear and impotence, I watched the man with the gun attempt to overpower her and the pretender subsequently shoot him in the face.

It was Tuesday, 22nd of October. In three large chunks I caught a substantial amount of this day - the encounter and the events that immediately followed. Although in a state of significant agitation at my own incapacity to intervene, I was moved by the way they handled the situation. They could easily have panicked and left the body and the car where they were. It may not have been perfect but their efforts to clean up their mess to extend the amount of time they had were creditable. They were using their heads and working together.

But they were leaving, and I was not gifted the benefit of insight to which direction. They needed help more now and the disquiet building in me made further delay impossible. I cancelled my flight, packed a bag, and drove west.

I stayed off interstates where ever possible to allow ease of pulling over if and when a new vision presented itself; if I were to find them with any speed, I needed constant updates.

What I was heading into reached a level of the unknown I'd never dared approach before. My dealings with people who could only be described as criminals, held danger but they never touched the real darkness within my past, the past I'd struggled so long to separate myself from. My motives were more than simply extending an arm to help another person like myself - with the spider I saw a chance to turn the tables on our oppressors. While I may not have been capable of doing it alone, limited by both fear and lack of knowledge, the spider was new, she would be hunted for a significant amount of time, a situation which could be used to gather information. But it wasn't just her I would be opening myself up to, there would be another, one who did not share our pasts. They were a package deal, I knew that before anything else.

As I crossed Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, the visions slowed and were shorter, their potency much diminished from the past two weeks. The bonus was, I was seeing practical things now - short but detailed fragments indicating info I actually needed. Town names, motel names, the pretenders process of transforming the spiders looks, and, as I closed in on them, a daring but less detailed confrontation with a man putting up wanted flyers of the spider. In Iowa, I switched direction and travelled down toward Kansas.

It was in Missouri, where they overstayed their usual time, that I finally caught up to them and my nerves caught up to me.

I had myself fairly convinced the pretender was not going to be a threat. Her allegiance rested with the spider, she had proved herself in that regard. And she was necessary; she buffered the spiders emotions in a way few other people would be capable of, gave them direction. Without her, the spider would likely have self-destructed quickly after her escape, even if she had managed to pull through her walk in the woods on her own. The pretender understood her, could make her see herself more objectively, and was able to control her to a degree - in this regard she was crucial. She knew it too; despite their obvious dedication to each other, without that control, their relationship would crumble. But I only had an outside view, I couldn't fully understand their connection, effortlessly exchanging emotions the way they did. It made them far more powerful as a unit and inspired sizeable fear about meeting them in person.

I donned my disguise as Laura - there was, after all, always the possibility they would not want anything to do with me, in which case, Bea needed to remain unknown.

They'd spent two days in Quilter when I cornered them, huddled together in a diner booth. When I saw them for the first time, through the front windows, my feelings were difficult to categorize. I think a part of me had retained the miniscule belief they may not be real at all and my mind was playing tricks on me.

Yet here they were. With no clue someone had been watching them all this time.

They wore dark clothing with pale make-up, heavy eye-liner and facial piercings, emphasizing their appearance Gothic. Although she wasn't wanted yet, the pretender had matched the spider's style to make them fit together.

They made a very attractive pair; equal in height, perhaps an inch taller than me, and while the pretender had curves to die for, the continuous energy of the spider's movements made her insubstantiality less noticeable. They complimented each other.

A pinch of envy ran through me as I observed; a sensation I'd never felt before, never considered myself human enough. The spider had been blessed with a different kind of luck than myself. Their demeanors indicated blatantly the reason they had overstayed in Quilter, holed up in a motel, consumed with each other - the circumstances that had allowed me to catch up to them. I felt my cheeks pink from the realization. I never blushed; it had to strike right when I needed to keep my cool most. Luckily I had not witnessed their amour first-hand or the situation would be worse; I may not have been able to approach them at all.

They looked so happy, and in such an openly public place. It made me uneasy, they would draw too much attention to themselves. There was one positive in their behavior - they certainly were not acting shifty or suspicious, like they had something to hide. So many things to hide; seeing them this way, it was hard to believe.

I wasn't just nervous, I was downright scared of intruding on such a scene of perfection. I could almost share in their happiness just watching them. But I recollected why I was here, took the time to think, no matter how they looked, they were in trouble. They needed me.

I remembered the thick foundation on my face would hide any indication of embarrassment, swallowed back images that were way past my business and pushed the door open.

They didn't look up when I slipped through and approached.

They knew I was in disguise, at least the pretender did; almost as soon as I sat down, she stared at my nose like she was tempted to lean over and give it a tug. When I offered the spider my hand, it was a gesture given in trust, my need for them too great to close myself off. I don't know how much she saw by taking it, but it affected her deeply, that was obvious.

She pulled my solitude from me, my hidden life, and my anger. While I received nothing from her.

By the close to the conversation, I had the pretender, she knew my worth and would do anything to keep the spider safe. The spider herself was reticent in a way I couldn't grasp; she required encouragement.

When they made their way toward me in the parking lot after less than fifteen minutes alone, I knew the pretender had worked her magic. Their expressions were guarded but curious, their pace gradual as I leaned against the driver's door of my rental.

They stopped a few feet away and, like they had inside the diner, stared for a few moments, studying me. Given the state of my nerves during the brief encounter, I thought it odd that it was me who needed to speak first.

"What do you think?" I asked, hoping to minimize my words.

"We will meet you on the coast," the pretender said with confidence defying the anxiety in how the spider fidgeted beside her. "You have a time and place?"

I admired her for reducing her own words; how talented she was at reflecting others' attitudes. A rare smile crept onto my face which both seemed startled by. I repressed the temptation to wipe it away and spieled off the address I'd rehearsed so methodically.

"It's in Westchester, there's a parking lot next to a restaurant called La grenouille, it's right on the harbor. Can you remember without writing it down?"

The pretender nodded and studied me with unpracticed hesitation.

"Should we introduce ourselves or something?"

"That can wait, you'll have to come up with different names. Pick something you can adjust to easily. If... When we meet again, we'll meet for real." I bustled into the car, not wanting to hang around now the immediate business had been settled to my satisfaction. I rolled the window down and frowned at the pretender. "From here on, no more contact anyone from your old life. Can you do that?"

"I wouldn't be here if I couldn't." Recognizing our exchange was over, she tugged the spider backward.

"I'll see you both in four days," I said and started the engine.

"Wait a second," the spider called as they stepped to the curb, "what if we run into trouble?"

"You'll deal with it." I had confidence they would too, they didn't need my help with any random flyer poster's, which was probably the height of any trouble they could encounter in four days. If anything more drastic occurred, I would find them again. "Just get to New York." I gave them a last look before I backed up and revved out of the lot.

It took a long time for my chest to calm down as I left Quilter and started back east. As limited as it was, the shock of not just a conversation, but a promise, a deal, with people who were acquainted with my deepest secrets, was profound. Easily, the worst was yet to come. Talking to them as Laura was one thing; when they reached New York, I would have to really expose myself.

Chapter Two

Come With Me

The interim between meetings was loaded with more emotional friction than the journey to find them. I questioned if I had been too brief, too abrupt, possibly even rude to the people my entire validation as a member of society might now rest on. While a part of me was certain they would stand by their word, another doubted they would show up at all.

But there they were, at two pm on the first Friday of November. Sitting casually on a wide, timber balustrade in front of their car, looking as innocent as they had in the diner. The air was cool, fresh breeze blowing in from the ocean, but it was an aptly glorious day, beneficent afternoon rays radiating between scant, puffy clouds.

The spider had her pale make-up and piercings on, the customary dark clothes at total odds with her bearing; she swung her legs and munched on an enormous doner kebab. Beside her, the pretender leaned back on her palms, soaking up sun with a content expression behind bargain-counter, oversized shades. She'd given up her designer accessories; she wasn't nearly as arrogant as she thought.

I pulled the car alongside them. "Jump in," I said and they stood to attention, stepping closer.

"Laura?" the pretender asked with a frown.

The spider, unworried, tucked the foil around her kebab and climbed in the backseat without delay. When she saw it, the pretender settled into the passenger side with slightly less confidence and slammed the door. I could feel her eyes on me as we drove further down the pier.

"Stop staring," the spider said in her husky voice. "You'll make her uncomfortable."

"This is her, right?" she asked and craned her neck toward the backseat. "Tell me we didn't just get in an unknown car with some random stranger."

"It's her." Certainty mixed with amusement from the spider. It didn't surprise me, she must have seen this face when I gave her my hand.

"I'm glad you made it," I said truthfully. "No trouble?"

"Not even flyers between here and Missouri."

"I didn't see any either."

"Where are you taking us?" she asked, while from the backseat I heard the spider peel back her wrapper and continue eating in nonchalance.

The tension of the last four days eased from my shoulders. It was their mere presence, I realized - they were so relaxed compared to myself; it knocked me from my normal guarded position.

"It's just down here, we can talk."

I'd acquired a speedboat last year, another insurance policy I'd be safe were I discovered; one of the less advisable ones. I parked, got out and we faced each other. The parking lot and pier were blessedly empty of other people. The spider re-wrapped her kebab, pushed it in her pocket, and cocked her head at me with a smile.

"Formal introductions. In Missouri, you met Laura Brams. I use her for more dangerous trade. This face is Bea Redding, she does everything by the book so doesn't have to remain hidden. Since we're going to be spending time together, you need to know her." I shoved my hand at the pretender who took it. Her hand was soft and cool, unlike mine which felt increasingly clammy inside hers.

"Bea. It's incredible," she studied me. "You're very good."

The comment was gratifying in a way I'd never experienced. I'd gone to a lot of effort to make Laura different from myself, even adding extra padding to the awful clothes I wore, but no one else had ever been able to appreciate it.

The spider did something rather interesting, she touched her fingers to the pretenders hand while her other was in mine. Understanding dawned, she was measuring the pretenders reaction to me; her feelings. Now the attitude in the diner made more sense, she was jealous. A relieved smile crept onto my face; I knew now what the problem had been and that it was quite absurd.

"You use fake skin to cover the cleft in your chin?" the pretender went on and I nodded.

"I make it myself. I've had time and motivation to perfect my art."

"Told you she was pretty," the spider said, and my hand was finally let go and immediately grabbed again by my sacred counterpart. Apparently satisfied with the pretenders' reaction, she probably wanted to gauge mine now; I tried not to raise my guard. "I'm Allie," she said and gestured to the women beside her. "This is Carmel. Saffron never suited her. I wanted her to be Mia but Carmel is good too." It all came out so fast and matter-of-fact.

"Not a good idea to use Mia," I agreed. "Might jog someone's memory."

Mia was Belen Abreu's most recent and least grotesque TV character.

"You've seen Capas ocultas?"

"I wanted to find out what kind of person you were." I observed the spider, she had a new feature, a tattoo of a creeping vine wound from the neck of her shirt toward her jawline. I wasn't big on skin ink but this one was stylish and befitted the rest of her appearance. "I like the tat."

"It covers my scar. It was annoying wearing turtlenecks and scarves all the time. I can stain it into my skin permanently if I want."

"I hear it's painful."

"That's why I can't do it."

"You never know when you'll need to change it anyway."

"That's what Carmel said. She has one on her..." She broke off when the other woman backhanded her arm. "Sorry."

"Okay then." I actually laughed. Laughs were a blue-moon occurrence for me. "Allie and Carmel are good among ourselves."

"And the documentation you can get us?" the pretender asked.

"Slow down. Follow me." I led them along the wharf.

"This is my first time seeing the ocean," Allie said poignantly and I turned to her feeling a swell of emotion. "It's beautiful, I didn't think it would smell so strong. Does it always smell this way?"

"Salt, yeah. I imagine you'll be having a lot of new experiences lately." I watched as she looked out into the harbor with a smile. "First time on a boat too?"

"Oh." Her saucer eyes widened even more. "Is this yours?"

"We're not going anywhere, it's just a good place to talk."

I let us into the small cabin and sat opposite them at the table. It felt cramped with three of us, but neither woman seemed bothered. I pulled the notebook from my shoulder bag and ran through the items on the pages in front of me.

"You feel safe showing your face?" Carmel asked.

"It's changed quite a bit in four years; daylight can do wonders for your looks. My skin has color to it now and my hair is a few shades lighter. But it's different for me, no one's putting up flyers of me anymore. Not for three years; they've given up on me. I hope anyway," I rambled, shuffling with my notes and swiveling my pen awkwardly. Carmel watched, sensing my discomfort.

"You alright?"

"I can't believe you're here. I mean, I can't believe you exist, let alone that you're here."

The spider offered me an easy smile, retrieved her kebab from her pocket and resumed her meal, staring out the window.

"She needs a lot of food. It doesn't bother you, does it?"

"As long as she's happy. Where is the cat?"

"His name is Guido," Allie said through bulging cheeks.

"We've got a motel room. So, they put up flyers of you too?"

"For a while. I spotted them around and I know people were asking questions about me."

"What happened?"

I shrugged. "Vagrants don't respond to demands from men like that."

"Do you think they'll give up on Allie eventually?"

"I think we're going to find out."

"Is that a checklist?"

"Yes. I've learned a lot through my visions but there are things I need to confirm. I don't feel easy making assumptions." I was aware it might make me seem less friendly but now I was glad of it. Their relaxed attitude was having a yo-yo effect on my anxiety levels. I needed to stay on track. "Getting the hard stuff out of the way first," I looked at Allie who continued gazing out the window. "You've only been out a few weeks, how are you doing?"

"I'm good. So perfect." She beamed, a large piece of lettuce stuck in her teeth. Carmel indicated to her and she picked at it, but her smile could light up any room. Her smile was so powerful I doubted anyone would forget it easily; a bittersweet side to her captors never witnessing it.

"Yes, what I mean is, and I know it's an awkward question but are you having any physical or psychological problems? I need to know if she is, it's important."

"She's moody and immature, does that count?" Carmel said. Allie elbowed her. "She was emaciated when I found her, physically she's much stronger. Her abilities too, as you know, are becoming more pronounced. She's super smart and, as far as I can see, mentally sound. She has pure retrograde amnesia, hasn't regained any memories."

"That's probably for the best. I'm surprised how well she is," I mumbled to myself. "What can you remember about the crash? I saw you search the bodies, did you get their names?"

"No. They had cards but I wasn't paying attention, I was mainly looking for food and water. And I needed something to cut my chip out. One of them had a pocket knife on his keychain."

"She had a microchip implant at the back of her neck," Carmel added. "She got rid of it."

"I was worried they'd track me with it."

"Interesting." I made a note. "I didn't have a chip myself. Things are changing. How big was it?"

She held up her thumb and index finger only quarter of an inch apart. "In length, it was just a thin bar."

"Unless they have more evolved technology, it wouldn't have had GPS tracking. It likely contained an identification code, a key to personal and medical information. Just like a pet."

"I should have kept it then," she said.

"No, you did the right thing. Without access to the external database it was linked to, it would be useless to us. Access would be nice but, even if we knew where it was, those databases will be well protected."

"Maybe this is a stupid question," Carmel began, "but how can you be sure you and Allie came from the same people? Is it an intuitive thing? Based on the fact that you saw her escape?"

"It's not a stupid question. It's partially intuitive. Also, they called her Aranea. I was Oculi. The Latin word for eyes."

"Yours makes more sense than mine."

I nodded absently, these were issues that could be surveyed with time; dwelling on them now was premature.

"Have you scrapped all devices that can be traced to you?" I asked Carmel.

"Yes. Allie didn't like it but all we have at that moment is a couple of TracFones."

I reached into the shoulder bag at my side and withdrew two Galaxy S9's, pushed them across the table.

"We need to be able to reach each other. They're unlocked, you can enter your own security. Both are registered to me and my number is in the contact list."

"Thank you." Carmel pushed one in her pocket.

"You won't be able to login to any of your old accounts, you'll literally have to create a new digital identity, but I can replace your other devices as well. I have the hardware at the house. The money from the crash, how much is there?"

"Fifty K. If we give it to you, can you get us something in return?"

"I'll get you everything you need."

"It's not the devices I'm concerned about. I bought the car under the name Saffron Crowe. The longer we use it, the more dangerous it becomes."

"I'll arrange for it to be taken. We can get you one registered under Bea Redding first thing tomorrow. You can't register for yourselves until you have documentation, which is going to take longer."

"How long?"

"Less formal photo ID's, a few days. Passports, up to two months." Carmel looked startled. "It's a complicated process and needs to be done properly. All of it needs to be backed up in records. The longer it takes, the more you know you can trust it. Don't worry, certain people are very good at this."

"Okay," she nodded slowly. "You'll need photos."

"In the disguise you feel comfortable travelling in. Make-up, hair, eye-color. Everything."

"Is this how you got your identity?"

"My pathway to Bea Redding was more difficult, if you can believe. Tell me about the man you killed." I glanced up. "I'm not judging. You handled things in the moment, I value that. I just want facts."

"There's not much to tell. Daniel Ruebeck. Colorado driver's license and a locked phone. We thought it might be a fake name."

"Maybe. I'll take a look."

"Should you be doing that? If you search him you might red-flag yourself."

"My connection is highly secure. Have you still got his gun?"

"Yes. The serial number's been scraped off." She pushed a torn scrap of newspaper at me with William Mann scrawled on it. "It's the name of the man who was pinning flyers in Kansas. He had a bunch of cards, dude was genuine, and Allie says he worked at some kind of facility in Colorado. A gate guard. He didn't know anything about patients or research."

"This is good." I said, jotting the name down. "He'll have a digital fingerprint, it shouldn't be hard to find out the name of his workplace. And more importantly the address. He looked to be in his late fifties, would you agree?"

"If he was over sixty it could only have been a year or two. She also got the name of the man who paid him to put up the posters."

Allie wasn't paying attention, noticeably happy to stare out the window and finish her kebab while Carmel did the talking.

"I like how it feels being on top of the water," she said absent-mindedly when she noticed us looking at her. "Can we go for a drive in it?"

"I think I'm going to like you," I chuckled. "We can take it out sometime. Not today."

"Focus Allie," the pretender said, matching my smile.

"What?"

"Who was the man that organized the posters to be put up?"

"All I got was a name, Simon Hughes, and that he worked for the same place in Colorado. Or at least, that's what the old guy in the bar thought. My views are very subjective." Her face became studious, peering at me as I added the name to my pad. "Did they wipe your memory too?"

"Yes. I remember approximately a year before my escape."

"I remember a few months. It never came back? Not even a tiny bit?"

"No. Sorry."

She took a large bite and turned back to the window.

"We do need to cover these topics, as unpleasant as they are. We need to get all our knowledge lined up. But it can wait until later."

She nodded vaguely, not tearing her eyes from the view and I focused on Carmel.

"I want you to consider staying at the house. You're no good to me in a motel and it's not safe."

The spider glanced at the woman beside her.

"You don't know us," Carmel said uncertainly.

Phrasing my feelings on this matter was no simple undertaking. I'd got to know them quite well over the past three weeks, but admitting that would make them uneasy. And realistically, they didn't know me.

"I know enough to know I don't want you caught or killed. The rest will happen with time."

"We'd be cramping your style."

"I don't have style," I pointed out blandly. "The cat..."

"Guido."

"...Shouldn't be kept at a motel. He'll be happier in a house with lawns."

"This isn't about the cat," Carmel said.

Her ability to see through ploy would be irritating for anyone else. I had less interest in putting on an act, the situation demanded sincerity and, despite their apparently carefree attitude, they knew it too.

"I'm worried about you staying at a motel, especially before you're properly undercover. I'm scared that once I say goodbye, you'll disappear and I'll never know what happened to you." I laid all my cards on the table and watched Carmel's expression. "It won't be long before they figure out you're involved. And now you know who I am, my safety is dependent on yours. I told you this would be a partnership, isn't it better we dictate how long it lasts, not them?"

"Exactly what is it we can do for you? You've got all the information we have now." She studied me with a frown. "You want to use Allie as bait, don't you?"

"If it comes to that, maybe," I said without pause and she snorted.

"Least you're honest."

"What I want is to be able to give this organization a name and to put some faces to that name. This facility in Colorado is an excellent jumping off point. Chances are, a legitimate research program is being used as a front for illegal work. And make no mistake, it is illegal. If the public ever finds out what's been done to us, the people responsible won't just be discredited, they'll be imprisoned. Even the more hardcore factions of the scientific community will not support their methods."

"Is that what you want? To blow the whistle?"

I shook my head. "At this point, I really just want information. I'll do the legwork myself, I don't expect your help with that."

She leaned back and looked me over thoughtfully.

"As long as I never have to be a prisoner again," Allie said quietly, then directed at Carmel, "What if there are others?"

"I'm all for finding out who they are but..." She didn't need to finish; it was written all over her face, Allie's safety was her top priority.

"When I say Allie might be useful as bait, it would only be with the absolute minimum danger - any decision made would be unanimous with all of us. I'd dangle myself in front of them if I thought it would work but I'm pretty sure they'd shoot to kill with me."

She leaned forward, elbows on the table, sighed and rubbed her temples. "What have I got myself into."

The topic had swerved forward too abruptly, but the least I owed them was total honesty about what might happen in the coming weeks. The spider nodded for me to go on.

"Come and see the house at least. It's an hour drive from here. Personally, I'd rather we did it right now but it's your prerogative."

"We'll come tonight," Allie said. "If it works we can stay. Right?"

"Sure," Carmel agreed, clearly depending on Allie's judgment.

"I should be the scared one," I tried to assure her in my ineloquent manner. "I've never killed anyone."

"But you would," Allie added.

"I would. You'll need to leave your car, I can't have it showing up around the house. I can bring you, we'll go collect your stuff and tomorrow, if you're in agreement, we'll get you a new vehicle."

Once the decision was made there seemed little point in hanging around on the boat. I locked it up, followed them back to their motel and helped them transfer their things to my car.

Guido, the pretender's cat, was an imposing grey and black striped beast with intelligent, yellow eyes. I'd glimpsed him in my visions but it didn't equate with really meeting him. He was beautiful. When Allie held him in front of me, I shook his huge paw with a smile.

"Hello, handsome." He sniffed cautiously at my hand before rubbing his cheek against it.

"He's giving you his scent."

"Is he a pure breed?"

"Mongrel. Carmel says pure breeds don't live as long."

"He's so big. And soft."

"He's pampered. Washed, blow dried and brushed."

"You don't have any pets of your own?" Carmel called from inside the motel room.

"I always wished I could get one, but never felt safe enough. Didn't want to put an animal in danger. But since he's already a fugitive, I guess it's okay."

"If it had been up to me, we would have left him in Savage Falls," she said, coming out with their last bag. "All set."

"She loves him really," Allie whispered, "she just likes playing martinet."

The journey to St Luke's wasn't strained. Allie stayed in the back with the cat, watching the coastline go by, asking about things she saw. Carmel seemed happy enough, but she did broach more serious questions.

"If you don't feel safe in the house, then why are we going there?"

"I feel safer there than anywhere else. It's more that I've always been afraid one day I'll have to leave, run and set up camp somewhere new. I spend a lot of time and money trying to safeguard against that and make it easier if it does happen."

"Must be a difficult life to live," she mused. "I can understand why you want to try and make things right."

"I've spent so long this way, it is very strange to hear someone say that."

"Sympathy, but dignified sympathy. Maybe I seem like I don't care, but I do."

"You're wary, you don't know me, but I won't put Allie in danger. She suffered worse than me; that makes me angry." It required effort to call her Allie instead of the spider, but using their name for her would be tasteless.

"Me too."

"What you've done for her, I hope you know I respect the hell out of that."

"Like I had a choice. The little cow made me fall in love with her." She received a swift smack from the backseat.

When we got to the property they fell silent for a few minutes. Although I imagined Carmel was accustomed to a certain level of wealth, they were probably both intimidated by the amount of security I had.

Amanda Redding came from money, the area was upscale, the property large and sequestered. In the years since her death I'd added improvements, updated its defense and surveillance features.

"You didn't tell us it was so impressive," Carmel commented with a hint of satisfaction.

"Is this the kind of place you had in Mexico?" Allie stared around.

"No. I lived in the city, it's nothing like this."

"The door requires a code and a fingerprint scan," I said as I let them in. "There are cameras on this door, inside and out, and dotted at other positions around the house. I'll show you the monitors soon, so you know where they all are."

"If we stay, we'll need to be able to come and go as we please," Carmel said in the entrance hall.

"Of course, you wouldn't be prisoners. I'll take you upstairs first and when you're ready, I can show you the rest."

The rooms, especially on the second floor were unused, but I kept them in good condition and had cleaned them since returning from Missouri.

"This is the master. It's okay for you?"

"It's like your mom's, it has its own bathroom." Allie put Guido down on the bed and he stretched lazily.

"We don't need the master," Carmel turned to me. "Where do you sleep?"

"Basement. I can keep an eye on everything from there."

"Master it is then." She dropped the three bags she carried on the floor, opened one and pulled a smaller bag from it. "I guess this is yours."

"The money?" I asked, taking it and she nodded.

"Is that your swimming pool?" Allie rushed to the window.

"It is."

"Can we use it?"

"That's what it's there for. It's not heated though."

"You don't even know how to swim."

"You'll teach me, I know you will."

"Okay, let's see the rest."

It didn't surprise me Carmel wanted a full understanding of her environment before she settled in; I'd seen how she scoped towns out when they were on the road. What amused me was that their cat followed us around the house too. He was more like a dog; I imagined he took just as much notice of what I said as they did. He inspected things with the thoroughness of a private investigator, sniffing and pawing. I battled the urge to snatch him up and cuddle him.

A light went on in Carmel's eyes when we entered the kitchen. I knew she liked to cook and wouldn't have been able while they'd been travelling; the kitchen would be a clincher.

"I don't have much food or ingredients, my diet is extremely limited. You'd have to take care of that yourself," I said and her lip twitched upward.

"This is one incredible setup. Alright, I'm just going to say it," she turned to me, "how did you go from homeless to this in four years?"

"I'll show you."

If I wanted them to feel comfortable staying I would have to open up. I led them to the main living room where photos of Amanda, her husband Giles, and the real Bea Redding through her formative years, hung on the walls. I watched as they studied the pictures curiously.

"This can't be you," Allie intoned and Carmel turned to me in question. I took a deep breath and began recounting the sad story of how I got my identity, wondering if they'd think I was evil.

They listened attentively; it was the longest dialogue I'd shared with anyone.

Carmel's expression softened throughout the discourse. "I'm relieved," she said when I finished. "Based on what you told us, I figured you'd been using your visions to screw people over with blackmail."

That was a whole different story.

"Back then I didn't have the contacts I do now. I could never have created Laura Brams without," I made a sweeping gesture, "all this. I got lucky. If it helps, I don't think Bea would be angry with me for what I did."

"You didn't get lucky, you tried to do right by a friend and were rewarded. That's straight up karma."

"It is," Allie agreed, squeezed Carmel's waist, pulled her face around and kissed her full on the lips. I had the distinct impression she was further staking her territory, though she seemed to distract from that goal with the kiss itself. I didn't want to stare but there was nothing close to occupy me.

"Not the time, Allie." Carmel pushed her shoulders back.

"Sorry," she said, straightening up. "I meant to say, what I got was luck."

They were interesting together; I wondered if this was the kind of relationship that lasted.

"I won't argue about that. I kept waiting for things to go horribly wrong for you in Montana," I admitted. "But you pulled through."

"I still feel like us staying here would be an imposition," Carmel said.

"No. It's something..." I grappled, I had so little experience in expressing emotion. "The paler skin tone you gave her is very effective, but do you both want to have to put all that on every time you leave a motel room? You could be yourselves here, no disguises, no acting. I know what it's like to have to hide all the time. It's just a house but you'd be free. Not to-" About to launch into another tirade on safety, Allie cut me off.

"We'll stay," she said, heartfelt. "Won't we?"

"This place is great. Thank you. I hope you have spare fuses in the basement."

"The basement. I can show you that now," I said then added a confused, "Spare fuses?"

Carmel shot Allie a look. "I guess you missed that part. If she has an emotional outburst she tends to blow electrical fuses. Light mostly."

"How often has this happened?"

"Three times in Savage Falls. Is it a problem?"

"No. I just didn't know. You have no control over it?"

She shook her head. "I haven't really tried. It wasn't part of my tests."

We had so much ground to cover.

"Okay, we can talk about that stuff in good time. Come now and I'll put your fingerprints in the system." I led them through the door off the kitchen and down to the basement.

"You sleep here?" Carmel asked dubiously as she stared around the cramped, cobwebbed opening at the bottom of the stairs.

I pulled back the loose board by the light switch and keyed in the code. The dusty back wall slid open and I stepped through.

"I had this done a couple of years ago when I got a big pay check. They extended the area down here beyond that of the house, part way down the length of the backyard toward the pool. Later, I had all the security and fake doors etcetera put in by different people.

"It's a fortress," Allie rasped.

"Yes." I watched as they stared around the large, open area that housed all my monitors and equipment. "Down that end is a bathroom and my bedroom. I could live down here for weeks if I had to."

"Base of operations. Alright," Carmel nodded, observing the wall of monitors displaying shots of the house from different angles. "I see why you feel safe here."

"Overkill some might say, but whatever helps me sleep at night." I went to a desk. "For you," I handed Allie a tablet and laptop, her eyes danced. "The operating system will be different from what you're used to but you'll get the hang of it. They have only the safest programs installed but it is still imperative you never login to old accounts." The warning was needless, neither of them were stupid and from what I'd seen, Carmel's connection to her past was cosmetic at best. "These computers will be available for you as well."

The evening was spent giving them a rundown of the security features and perimeter alarm. I gave them the codes to all the doors, including the basement. I knew them well enough to trust them not to intrude on the private end of it while I wasn't there. At least I did Carmel, and with Allie I couldn't care less. Though childish, she was the least vindictive person I'd ever met.

When I excused myself to retire it was partly from exhaustion and partly due to the fact that the spider wouldn't keep her hands off the pretender; being unaccustomed to such things I thought it best to leave them alone.

"I'm going downstairs. I'm usually up by eight so we'll look at cars." I left them in the kitchen eating takeout, with a backward wave and the faint hope they'd remember what I told them about the alarm system.

The day had gone smoother than I dared hope and my anxiety levels were minimal considering it was the first night I'd had other people in the house since Amanda's death. Had they chosen to stay at a motel, there would have been more. I'd probably be staking the place out just to keep an eye on them.

I managed to get one phone call in as Laura, regarding the car left at the motel, before I settled in front of my screens and pulled out my notes.

Names. I had actual names.

I rested my forehead on the pad with a smile, giving myself a few minutes to gloat, let the fact really sink in. I fell asleep that way, no progress with searches and no bed.

Chapter Three

Not Alone

A hand nudged at my shoulder the following morning and I jolted awake, a small pool of saliva smudging the ink of William Mann's name under my jaw.

"Sorry to scare you," Allie said, her smile saying she wasn't sorry at all. "It's almost nine."

I'd overslept. I hadn't slept past eight in months.

"Good morning." How different it felt to say that to someone, my voice gravelly from the night.

"It is, isn't it?"

I stretched, rubbed at my face and gestured for her to follow me. Emerging from the darkness of the basement, the kitchen was bright with morning sun.

"Do you drink coffee?"

"Sweet, sweet, sweet coffee," she sang, then commented, "You have beautiful hair."

"What?"

"Yes. It's silky like Carmel's, but blonde. Why can't I have hair like that?" she grumbled.

I was not awake enough to carry this kind of conversation. Preparing the machine, it was hard not to stare at her, watching attentively in a pair of silk pajama shorts and a light blue t-shirt. It was the first time I'd seen her in person without her accessories, her hair long and wild, eyes a clear blue that hadn't been done justice in my visions.

"I can cook okay, I could make you breakfast," she offered.

"That's nice but I have a rigid eating regimen."

"Why? You're not fat," she said, her bluntness somehow refreshing.

"It isn't about weight, it's about routine."

"What do you think of the name Allie?"

"It suits you. Has it been hard to switch?"

"It's easier for Carmel, she's used to it. But I like Allie, I chose it."

"Lark suited you too."

"I've put it behind me, Lark was who I was when Saf didn't know who I was. What I was. Allie will be an improved version."

The words sounded sad, but her expression wasn't pained.

Carmel came into the kitchen, hair disheveled, rubbing her eyes, dressed in shorts like Allie but with a pink t-shirt. Her skin was several shades lighter than Allie's, almost the same color as mine, and while she had been wearing blue lenses yesterday, her natural, hazel eyes were far more beautiful. The spider was at her side in an instant.

"You shouldn't be up yet, you need sleep."

"I'm fine, better to adjust my pattern. We've got things to do."

"But I want to talk to our host alone," Allie said candidly.

"Oh." She tousled her hair and raised a brow before turning. "I'll just go have a shower then, I know when I'm not wanted. Don't take any shit from her, Bea," she added over her shoulder and I smiled. She, at least, was not the jealous type. She had the shapeliest pair of legs as she walked away.

I handed Allie a mug, sipped my coffee and waited as she studied me.

"I'm sorry about last night, Carmel said I was embarrassing you. I thought I was just embarrassing her." She stuck a nail between her teeth thoughtfully. "I quite enjoy embarrassing her."

"It's nothing. I'm only glad you're happy and that you're here. Oh and," I leaned close and met her gaze, "I'm not going to steal your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend," she said solemnly. "She's much more than that."

"I know. Whatever you call her, moving in on your turf isn't part of my scheme."

"Good. Because I want us to stay."

"I'm glad.

"We can have noisy sex here," she sighed and a bit of coffee spilled from my mouth.

"That I don't need to know about."

"You think I'm ridiculous, don't you?" she said moments later, her tone changed completely.

"No!" I looked at her in surprise. "How could you ask that? You're incredible. I don't know the extent of what you can do yet, but I wouldn't want you as an enemy."

She scrutinized me in silence. "You think we're ridiculous then. Our connection, it bothers you."

"I'm prudent. You're dependent on Carmel, if it ends, neither of you will cope well." Honesty was the only way to work with the spider.

She nodded, staring at the countertop, twisting her fingers together. "Do you know they made me hurt animals while I was there?"

"Yes." I lowered my head. "I saw."

"They were so small and innocent. I felt their pain, their confusion." Her eyes went misty. "How could they make me do that?"

"I'm going to get them, one way or another," I assured her. Anger was easier than sorrow.

"What is the plan?" she asked. She was on the ball early.

"Step one, find out where William Mann worked." I hoped she wouldn't ask for step two or three, as if I knew what I was doing.

Instead, she said, "You'll tell us when you find out." It was a statement, and when I nodded, she continued, "How does it work, when you see the past? Could you see something from before I remember?"

"I can't enlighten you in that area, sorry. The little bits I've seen, you look the same age."

"Do... Do you think I'm the way I am because of them?"

"I think you're the way you are in spite of them."

"I know Carmel's aware I haven't shown her the details of what I experienced. Like I don't know what she's done in her past either. But you should understand, I feel what she's capable of, she won't let me down. Or you."

"I wouldn't have brought her here if I didn't trust her."

"Thank you for coming to find us."

"Tonight, if it's okay, I'd like to talk about what you remember in a little more detail. It won't be pleasant for either of us but it has to happen."

"I know. Can Carmel be there?"

"It's better she is, she needs to understand what's going on."

"Good," she said with a small smile. "Will you take us to get a car today?"

"I will. After that you can do whatever you want. There are some pretty cool places to see around here if you can convince Carmel to take you."

"What about you?"

"I have some names to investigate. I fell asleep early last night, I'm not used to so much honest interaction."

"I can help you."

"It's a one woman job at this point. You should take some time to decompress. I want you to feel at home; whatever you did in Savage Falls, feel free to do here. It can't have been nice driving all night and sleeping in the car."

"It was great! I mean, aside from the worry. But it turned out okay, we're here."

"Yes, you are," I agreed.

"What's it like? When you see things. Are you conscious?"

"The stronger the vision, the less awareness I have of my surroundings. Sometimes, they just take over the visual aspect and are short so it won't be obvious to someone seeing me. Sometimes, like with your escape, it takes over all senses and I'm not aware of anything around my real body. To an observer, it looks like I've fainted."

"That must be inconvenient." She chewed her lip.

"But that type is extremely rare. It's why I knew how important you were from the start."

"And then you started seeing me more?"

"I wanted to. I isolated myself so I could figure out where you were."

She nodded and glanced around the kitchen. "I ate one of your apples last night."

"You're hungry," I said with a chuckle. "The food situation is dismal, I know, but we'll get you some breakfast on the way to the dealership and you'll probably want to do some shopping after that." I watched her smile as I put my mug in the dishwasher. "Are you comfortable applying so much make-up every time you leave the house?"

"I'm fine with anything that keeps me safe. You don't know how fantastic it felt after seeing the flyers, to know people could look right at me and not know."

"Carmel did a good job."

"Besides, I can do it all myself now."

"If you're finished with me, I'll go have a shower."

"I'm finished with you," she laughed.

"By the way, the room opposite yours upstairs has some hair-pieces and wigs in the walk-in, if you want to check them out. You might prefer it to wearing a hat."

"Yes," she clapped her hands in excitement. "I'll have a look."

She ate an enormous fried breakfast at Huddle House that morning, the girl could really put it away. She wore a straight, deep red wig with bangs, matching the paler skin color she'd adopted. Her overall features refined, she passed easily as Caucasian. Mulling over what gene-pool she sprung from was interesting.

"She looks good, doesn't she?" Carmel commented across the table, sipping a green tea.

"Really good, it works," I concurred and Allie beamed.

"You've got a grey wig," she said.

"Oldies are good characters for rainy days. I bet you've missed cooking the past week," I said to Carmel. "Stock the kitchen with whatever you want, it would be nice to see it being put to use. You have cash?"

"Enough for now." She neglected to mention she hadn't been able to empty her accounts and had chalked it up as a loss; a fact I only learned later when it was too late to make an off-shore transfer.

"I'll cover the car, of course."

"It doesn't need to be anything expensive."

Carmel's behavior was quite changed when she was in a place like this, with others close around. She curved her posture inward, craned her neck further and let her hair fall around her face, toying nervously with the pendant around her neck often. She spoke quietly to us and did not look at anyone else directly. It represented a closed off demeanor, a person who didn't want or deserve to be paid attention to. As our time together wore on, I would notice these kind of adjustments in different settings were intrinsic to her, automatic, requiring minimal thought or effort.

"You know the importance of blending in and I want you in something safe."

"I'll let you and Allie decide, I couldn't give a shit what I'm in. As long as it's automatic, I never learned to drive a manual. What about the other car?"

"I made a call last night. It's gone. Vanished, just like you."

"That's a great plan!" Allie said suddenly and we looked at her.

"What is?"

"A driving lesson today. She gave me one at a parking compound in Indiana, but it wasn't enough."

"Where did this great plan spring from?" Carmel snickered. "She almost rammed a Porsche. We're not doing it today, no way."

"I wanted to hit that car," she confessed dreamily. "It was very tempting."

"Yes. Maybe wait until you're in a better place. Or a simulator," I said.

"We're certainly not doing it in a new car."

Allie pouted and I continued.

"It should be a four wheel drive, every safety feature possible. We don't know where you might end up and winter is closing in." Accidents couldn't be added to the list of things they needed to worry about.

Mercifully, they were easy to please and chose one from the first dealership we went to; a dark blue Lexus RX 350. It was eleven by the time it was all wrapped up and I was free to go home and look at my names.

"You should break it in. It's a nice drive up the coast." I pushed my wallet back into my bag.

"You're sure there's no news in Savage Falls?" Carmel worried about using her driver's license.

"No news. You're okay for now, just try not to do anything illegal."

"You're off home?" she asked and I nodded. "We'll see you later then. Thanks for everything."

"You have your phones?" I asked and Allie patted her pocket. "Alright. Be safe." With a backwards wave I left them to their day.

I could have asked someone else to find William Mann but this was a part of my life I didn't feel comfortable revealing to other contacts. In the event my hand was forced, I'd enlist help but for now, the job was mine. The truth was, I relished it.

I discovered quickly the name was extremely common even narrowed to the state of Colorado, and there was no guarantee his last known address had been Colorado. Probing was required, but I was happy to spend days at it if I had to.

Absorbed, it panicked me for a moment when I saw a blue vehicle approach the gate just before five. Identifying them brought a sigh of relief and it made me smile when Guido appeared on the front entrance camera to watch the process of unloading bags. Allie, buoyant and bouncy, waved leisurely in the direction of the camera. Carmel would be itching to get in the kitchen. I left them to it and concentrated on William, Simon and Daniel.

At six, not prepared to interrupt my strict routine, I went up to have my Saturday night dinner; a ham mustard sandwich and bran muffin. The kitchen had a divine lingering scent in it, the refrigerator stuffed with more food than it had seen in years. My mouth watered looking inside but my disciplined side ate her sandwich as she looked through the windows down the back lawn. They were by the pool, lounging in the lingering pink of sunset, involved in an animated discussion.

As I peered through the windows something brushed against my legs and I jumped.

"Kitty! You scared me." His eyes looked up with nebulous impatience and he rubbed his cheek against me again before sashaying out the open ranch slider towards his owners, casting an evocative glance back my way. "Alright, I can take a hint."

I put my plate in the dishwasher and followed him.

"Got all your groceries done," I said as I approached.

"Hey," Carmel greeted. "We did. Allie insisted on using the trolley with a wobbly wheel because she felt sorry for it."

"It was pushed off to one side like a reject," she said defensively. "The wheel wasn't even bad."

"Poor thing."

"People are so spoiled, always expecting everything to be perfect. They should be grateful to have a trolley at all."

"They should be a lot of things," I agreed.

"And by they, you mean me," Carmel said with a smile. "We made chicken fajita stuffed peppers. I'm trying to lower her carb intake, she gets enough when we buy out. I left a plate for you in the fridge."

"I had a sandwich," I said, embarrassed. "Good day?"

"Marvelous. We went to the city. So many people! Strange people," Allie said in a rush.

"I've been to New York before but never looked around much, so I took her to see the Statue of Liberty."

"Symbol of freedom. Seems appropriate."

"Did you manage to find anything out?"

"Not yet. The names are common. Except Daniel Ruebeck, whom I haven't managed to find."

"Shit, we forgot to do our photos," she mumbled then looked at me. "Allie said you wanted to talk about what she remembers more tonight."

"Is that okay?"

"It's what we're here for," Allie resigned herself.

The last of the bright clouds on the horizon faded fast, twilight turning to darkness. Carmel stood up.

In the basement I fidgeted in my chair while Allie sat in another close by. Carmel, incorrectly sensing she wasn't to be an active part of this, placed herself further away, on the sofa and played with a tablet.

"What are your questions," Allie said, smiling. It was unfortunate it wouldn't last, I would burst her bubble. "I don't know anything about myself. I don't know my age or race or-"

"To begin," I interrupted, "can you give me a run-down of the things you're capable of?"

Her head and shoulders all began to nod at once and her smile slipped away.

"I can cause pressure in the brain with touch, render a person unconscious. The best contact point is the back of the neck but I can cause a minimal pressure without touching. When this happens, the person might lose control of their body and not be able to think well - that's how it worked with the pilot of the helicopter."

"Can you do this with more than one person at the same time?"

"If I have the right motivation, I've done it with two before. I've never tried with any more than that. It takes a lot out of me and can't be forced like they were trying to do, it comes easier with natural emotions."

"She can cause nice feelings too," Carmel added. "She can take away panic attacks."

"I can exchange physical sensations easily with Carmel and we don't need to touch to share emotion."

"She's also given me dreams."

I looked at her in surprise. "You can control this?"

"To a certain degree. The first time I did it was unintentional," she glanced at Carmel sheepishly, "but I've planted an intentional dream."

"This is really quite..." I twiddled my pen with a frown. "William Mann, you could tell he was sick?"

"Who?"

"The guy in the bar, Allie."

"That's right. A growth in his spine, I could feel it. That was the only time I've done that."

"And you can draw memories from people?"

"Requires touch and openness and it can be distorted. It's only how that person remembers it."

"My views to your past, and this is a very subjective question, I realize; do you think you were only being researched, or were they training exercises?"

"Both probably. The tests would give more adequate results had my abilities been stronger."

"They can't be very good researchers," Carmel muttered. "If they couldn't grasp that she would work better without being tormented. What sadistic idiot was running this circus?"

"I agree, their methodology was immensely flawed," I mumbled into my notes and tried to remain on course. "Where you allowed to wash properly?"

"I had a basin, toothbrush and toothpaste in my cell. Just before every second testing session they took me to a separate shower room for maybe ten minutes. The shower had cameras in it and a guard stayed right outside the cubicle. There were no windows." She spoke calmly but I noticed Carmel wincing.

"Did you ever see an indication someone else might be using the shower?"

"No."

"What do you know about the drugs they kept you on?"

"They didn't force pills down my throat. There were injections often, both intravenous and intramuscular. Some of them put me out, some of them just made me feel weird or floppy. Some of them seemed to have no effect at all. If they were giving me regular daily medications, they might have put it in my food or drink."

"What was the food and drink?"

"Once a day, oatmeal, very sweet. Twice a day, there was a kind of meatloaf with vegetable puree. The meals were the only way to judge the passing of time. The drinks were always the same, plain water or a misty liquid that tasted like electrolytes. Is that what you had?"

"The drinks, yes. My meals were a little more diverse, at least I was given fruit. I was given pills daily though. They told me they kept me healthy and I took them because I didn't know better."

"You were compliant. I wasn't, I fought everything they did."

"Why would you be compliant, you had no incentive."

"I tried to eat as little as possible but I never stopped altogether."

"It probably wouldn't have mattered, they would have tubed you. How did your overall state change after your escape?"

"That's um," she shook her head, "hard to qualify. I was energetic, then I was sick." She left the chair and went to sit close to Carmel on the sofa. "Then I was just happy. So happy."

I wheeled my chair closer. "Anxiety?"

"Yes. I had it; I worried what would happen to me, I was scared they would find me. And I was scared Saf wouldn't want to know the truth." She slid her hand into Carmel's. "But it didn't compare to the fear I felt before."

"Anxiety now?"

"A lot better. I get hyperactive but I read that's normal in PTS."

"Would you say you suffer from PTS?"

"Some of the symptoms correlate, I have mood swings but Carmel says she's seen worse."

"It's good," I nodded. "That you can look at this with such a clear head. You're in a way better place than you could be. What do you think?" I asked Carmel.

"I think she's in a good place too."

"You can't ask her, I'm okay when I'm with her."

"She has nightmares but she calms down quickly after she wakes up."

"Because you're with me," Allie repeated. "Would you two stop looking at me like I'm a specimen?"

"How is this helping? I thought our purpose here was to find out about the assholes that did this, not what might or might not be wrong with you. Isn't is safe to say you both suffer from trauma? No one could exit that unscathed."

"It takes one to know one, Carmel," I said, bluntly. "Why were you in your hometown?"

"What?"

"Savage Falls. You went back to a place you suffered enormously because that's what you do, you confront trouble." I answered my own question and she appeared stricken by my forwardness. "I know you have an understanding of psychology but your participation in this is made more relevant by your personal experience." I abstained from pointing out her proclivity for darkness and danger.

"My experience doesn't come close to yours."

"Trauma is trauma. Don't discredit yourself. I'm asking these questions because I'm trying to get a sense of the damage caused and what drugs they had Allie on."

"I was weak all the time. But maybe that's because I was being tested for hours on end and I wasn't eating well. Also, I never bled when I was there, that part of me didn't work, but again, it might have been because my diet was inadequate."

"I never had a period either," I said and Allie raised her brows. "In a year."

"They were probably giving you something to stop unnecessary body functions," Carmel said. "Some drugs interfere with the menstrual cycle, though I've heard it's not healthy to delay for too long."

I nodded, picked up my pen again. "Were you raped?"

"What kind of a que-" Carmel began but Allie cut her off with a hand on her arm.

"No one touched me. They wouldn't dare." She held my gaze. "Were you?"

"I was a prisoner and I don't have the defenses you do." It was only fair I answer the same questions honestly.

Allie nodded but Carmel was clearly alarmed.

"You were raped?" she asked in exasperation.

"By one of the guards. I had no rights, they did what they wanted."

"Mother f... This is intolerable."

"You know Allie was tortured but rape is intolerable?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose and Allie leaned onto her shoulder.

"It's just a shock," she said, keeping her eyes on me. "She doesn't understand the big picture yet."

"Sorry Carmel. I need to remember-"

"I'm not one of you," she interrupted and stared at the carpet.

"The doctors probably wouldn't have liked it, if they'd known. I assume he turned the cameras off when he came in."

"You couldn't tell them?"

"You don't get it," I shook my head. "I couldn't tell them anything. And it would have just hurt me if I'd tried."

Her forehead creased in anger.

"It's uncomfortable for me to talk about this too, but unless we're willing to face the reality of the situation, we're not going to get far resolving anything. These people are villains, we need to be able to look that right in the eye and I know you can. It's what I mean when I say it's your personal understanding of suffering that allows you to be a part of this. I know how dark that sounds but it's true."

"This is way off being about me."

"I know for a fact you would never have taken Allie in and given her the support she so badly needed had you not understood her even just a bit. It was automatic with you; you placed yourself on her side of the table regardless of who or what had victimized her. It's what started your involvement and it's what's brought you here. Maybe you don't understand yet but you will."

"Is that how you see it?" she asked Allie, who considered for a moment.

"Yes. I hadn't put it into words like that but she's right. However small the link is, it's there."

"So that's what this is? A face-the-darkness juice-generator?"

"More or less. The more we talk about it, the more we think about it. The more information we share, the better we'll be able to connect it to something practical."

"Useful to know." She leaned back. "Bring it."

I focused on Allie and moved on.

"Were you always handled with gloves?"

"Always. They were afraid of letting their skin touch mine."

"Was anyone kind to you?"

She frowned thoughtfully. "From the time I woke up, there were books in my room. The stuffed bear too, and although I didn't remember it, I knew it was mine. Sometimes, when I got back from testing, there were new books, but I never saw who put them there. It was the only time I felt like someone was being nice."

I didn't comment on the conviction they probably did it just to keep her sane for longer.

"How did you know the bear was yours?"

"I knew his smell," she said sadly and drifted. "He was mine. He was all I had and I almost left him behind. Saf rescued him." She laid her head in Carmel's lap and Carmel stroked her hair.

"How did you know you had a microchip implant?"

"I could feel it. With my fingers. I used to poke at it a lot, it was quite close to the skin."

"But how did you know what it was?"

"I don't know," she frowned. "I just did."

"And you knew how to read?"

"Oh yes, I was a reader. There was nothing wrong with my cognition."

"They needed that intact," I said thoughtfully. "Did they put you in MRI machines often?"

"Sorry, I don't know what that is."

"A kind of cocoon where you have to lie still and are scanned while they ask you questions."

"Not long after I woke up that happened. I refused to stay still and the couple of times they did it again I was completely strapped in and I don't remember well; they drugged me."

Carmel fell largely silent for the remainder of the conversation and I knew she was struggling to get past my words; I'd struck a nerve. While it should have been Allie responding badly to the subject matter, I suspected Carmel was absorbing her negative feelings, converting them into her own. I wondered if they both realized what a curiosity it was, and how Carmel was able to accept it without resentment. At least I'd managed to outline how I viewed her role here and I knew she understood or she wouldn't have cared so much. At nine I mumbled something about being tired and ended it. I still had questions but the atmosphere of the room had grown oppressive and rushing either of them was pointless.

Up early on Sunday, I was surprised to see Carmel leave through the side gate just after dawn in her running gear. It would become her regular solitary routine over the coming days. I understood, exercise was a major form of stress release and her runs were the rare periods she had totally to herself. Last night's conversation clearly had an impact and I worried she had changed her mind about staying. If I lost her, I lost Allie too.

I put on sweatpants and gloves and went down to the gazebo. It sat on the far side of the pool and I kept a boxing bag there; kicking the crap out of it in the morning was my way of getting through the day.

The burning it produced inside my muscles was something I craved. I'd been at it for almost an hour when Carmel approached. She'd seen me through the window on her return.

"Damn, you're strong for such a little thing!" Her face was still flushed from exertion and a smile of appreciation etched her features.

I punched the bag a final time, collapsed on the mat and pulled my gloves off. She crouched next to me.

"Look at this." I showed her my fist, I had a wicked set of knuckles. "Imagine that coming at your windpipe at twenty miles an hour."

"Shit. What is that? Karate?"

"Mixed martial arts. I've been doing it for two years, I get such a rush from it. The only way someone my size could compete with a male adversary is through skill and knowledge."

She stared at me with a glint in her eye and I took a swig of water.

"Would you teach me?"

"Really?"

"I've always wanted to learn how to defend myself but never found the time. Plus, you make it look pretty cool."

I'd never taught anyone anything before. But Carmel was an easy student. I showed her two main moves that morning which I considered basics at immobilizing a threat. She was ecstatic.

"If you want to get good, you will have to train your muscles toward strength and accuracy. It's a lot of work."

"You doubt my motivation. Can I use the bag?"

"Whenever you want." I checked my watch and grabbed my towel. "I'm due for cereal."

"Coffee and a shower." She shadowed me back to the house.

"I guess you haven't had much time to yourself lately," I commented

"I'm okay with change, it's always been part of my landscape."

With a schizophrenic mother, I supposed Carmel had to grow up fast. I filled a bowl with Frosted Flakes and sat at the kitchen counter while she prepared her coffee.

"I gather you don't need food the way Allie does," she said. "She eats twice what I do easy and hasn't gained more than a few pounds since we met."

"She can pack it in," I agreed. "I get tired like her. I can sleep anywhere if it's been a heavy day. The eating not so much, but Allie's abilities are far more physical than mine."

"So I'm right thinking it expends a huge amount of energy?"

"Without doubt." I hesitated. "I want to apologize for what I said last night. I might have been terse."

"You never need to apologize to me." She met my eyes. "Ever. If you were terse, I needed it."

"What I meant was, your personal experiences are relevant. It was supposed to..." I shoved a spoonful in my mouth, the words to explain myself lost.

"I understand, I do. You're fine. It just hit me - they took everything, even your memories, and now this? Hearing about Allie's circumstances is the embodiment of sick, but rape added a dimension I wasn't prepared for. I know it shouldn't bother me so much but, I thought this was about science, I didn't expect to be faced with sexual exploitation as well. I thought... I don't know."

"It's not unusual in cases where you have vulnerable people, prisoners, for them to be taken advantage of in any and every way."

"Do you know I spent two weeks believing she ran away from a religious sect?"

"I was happy about it at the time, I didn't think you'd accept the truth."

"It's ironic really. She came from science not religion, yet it's come back full circle to such a primitive example of abuse of power."

"Human nature is human nature."

"Total crap?"

"I doubt we're going to come across much good in this situation."

She nodded. "I shouldn't have got weird, I'm just angry. The world lulls us into a false sense of safety so it smacks you harder when you see things like this have been happening all along. I've been sheltered."

"Look on the bright side," I said and she raised her brows incredulously. "It was because of that guard and his indiscretions that I managed to escape."

Her lip twitched upward slightly. "That is a bright side."

In that moment, Carmel turned me into a glass-half-full person and I loved her for it.

"You realize the answers Allie gives you aren't for shit," she said, meeting my gaze again. "She wasn't always conscious and she only remembers a few months. None of us know anything."

"I realize. I've barely started, don't lose hope."

"I'm not. I'm worried about opening Pandora's Box. But I'm hyped as well; if I wasn't before, I am now officially provoked. The Box needs opening."

"I'm glad you feel that way. I was worried you might want to leave now."

"I'm not that brittle. I'll start doing some reading about this stuff, open my eyes; get a proper background understanding so it won't come as such a shock when I find out things like last night. I'm not going to be acting anytime soon, I should make myself useful."

"What are your plans for today?"

"I'll take Allie to get our passport photos and be straight back. We're not going anywhere from now until we get ID. Not with me driving anyway."

"Probably a good call. I'll take the cash and photos into the city this afternoon. You're welcome to use the basement whenever you need, the monitors are bigger and I know Allie likes her movies. Or TV or whatever it is she watches," I rolled my eyes and Carmel grinned.

"It's how she learns about life. She's very good at mimicking behavior. Like, really good."

"She's a lot quicker than I ever was. It's hard to believe how well she's adjusting. Anyway, use the basement, you'll be more comfortable keeping an eye on the cameras."

"Thanks for being so welcoming."

"Whatever makes the circumstances a bit easier. It's not terrible having you here."

*

I didn't hang around in the city. My drive to find William Mann was being hampered by too much interference, by five I was back in front of my computers again - my most comfortable position until I found him. The searches didn't require much brain power and I could divide my thoughts with other issues. I'd been there for an hour when Allie poked her head around the open entrance.

"Busy?"

I swiveled around in my chair. "Come in, come in," I gestured at her and she sat at the seat next to me with a smile. "You can show me things, can't you? From back then."

"I've only ever done that with Carmel. I can try."

"Can you show me the people you remember?"

"You haven't seen them?"

"One of the biggest issues with my views to the past is that they're grainy, less defined than the present. It's frustrating, I want to see if I recognize any of them. Well, not want but, you know." I finished with a grimace.

"I can show you the people who did the testing, two of them. The others, the muscle, I don't remember their faces."

She reached out and gripped my wrist firmly. Twenty or so seconds passed before anything happened.

It wasn't like my visions at all; it was so much more. I saw it from Allie's perspective, I felt what she did, in the moment. The fear was overwhelming, it was impossible to focus on the faces; I flinched and started whimpering.

Allie let go and the feelings melted into the background immediately, leaving a chilling impression. She'd pulled emotion from me before but this was my first experience with her pushing it. She stared at me anxiously.

"That was not what I expected." I steadied my breathing and looked at her with new eyes.

"I can't give you visuals without feelings."

"No, I guess not." I got up and started toward my bathroom - I needed to splash some water on my face. "Can we do it another time? I'm going to need to psyche myself up to face that."

"Of course," she said and I hurried from the room without bothering to ask if she'd come down for anything in particular. The last thing I wanted was to hurt her feelings but I didn't want her to witness a meltdown either.

She was gone by the time I pulled myself together and came back out. I went upstairs.

The heavenly scent of roast hung in the air and Carmel was laying the dining table with an appealing spread. I stood gaping.

"There you are," she said casually. "What's your Sunday night meal? Another sandwich at six on the dot?"

Heat spread on my cheeks. "I just came up to..." Allie bowled in from the living area and plonked Guido on the floor.

"You got him a present." Her smile shone. "He likes it, he says thank you."

"Oh," I mumbled stupidly.

"What present?" Carmel crouched beside him and inspected the engraved metal tag I'd attached to his harness earlier.

"I picked it up in town today."

"That's so thoughtful."

"Not really. He's not micro chipped, if he goes wandering the neighborhood, people need to know where he's from. That he belongs somewhere." To look at him, most would recognize he belonged somewhere simply from his attitude, but relying on peoples intuition was never a good idea.

"She's like you, she likes to pretend she doesn't care," Allie said.

I kept my nose in the air.

"Sit," Carmel ordered. "Eat with us."

"No. I won't, I'm in the middle of something."

"Come on. There's too much and we've been working on this all afternoon," she complained.

Allie edged across the room toward me with a peculiar look; she reached out and touched my arm unexpectedly. I felt it straightaway, their desire for me to stay, for friendship. It was the strangest thing, not just Allie's but both of them. I tugged my arm back reflexively.

"Don't do that!" I snapped and started to march away. But it wasn't right. I stopped in the doorway and turned back.

They smiled as I stepped toward the table and sat down.

"Good," Carmel said. "None of us should be facing darkness without light."

She was right. I didn't think about that side of things enough; it was where her link to normality became more meaningful.

Allie began eating immediately, using her knife and fork in a polite fashion.

"I'm sorry about before," she said, off-handed and I shook my head.

"Not your fault. I'm sorry I rushed away."

"What happened?" Carmel inquired.

"I gave her a scare."

"I wasn't prepared for it. My visions are relatively objective, I should have known better."

I tasted a piece of lamb, it was delectable. The scene was on the brink of being too much for me; I'd never had a dinner like this, sitting down at a table with others. Who knew.

"She wanted to get a view of the people I remember working on me, to see if she recognized them."

"Ah," Carmel nodded in understanding. "Intense, huh?"

"It brought up a lot of feelings," I said loosely.

"Carmel puked when she saw it." Allie's well-intentioned effort to make light of something so awful.

"It goes beyond just seeing. A lot beyond."

"It's made you angry," Carmel observed accurately, studying my face.

"Angry. Sick." I shook my head, couldn't precisely describe how I felt.

"Were you able to do it easily?"

"It took a little longer than with you, but when I touched her just then it was easier. Maybe because it was only a feeling, not a memory, but maybe because the connection has been fortified now."

"Interesting."

"This food is scary," I said.

"Scary?"

"I could see myself expanding to an ungodly configuration if you're around long enough."

"I notice you have a veritable pharmacy of medication in one of the cupboards. What's up with that?"

"Bea Redding has problems with depression and anti-social personality, stemming from her drug-addled past," I explained. "I don't take the meds, it's just part of my cover. I have an excuse for isolation this way."

"Bea Redding is a screw up, I like it. Tell us about Laura Brams."

"Don't," Allie said loudly. "She's not ready to talk about that yet."

Carmel raised her eyebrows.

"Maybe it could wait a while," I agreed.

"Carm said you're going to teach her self-defense?" Allie asked.

"I practice at eight for an hour. If she wants to come, that would be okay."

"I'll be there."

"I will be there too," Allie said resolutely.

"You don't need it, your defenses are much more effective."

"I can still watch. It might be funny."

"She's worried I'm going to try it on with you," I suggested.

"Ha. I knew there was a sense of humor in there somewhere."

"Neither of you are wrong," Allie said with a smile. "I'd rather watch you than television."

"How long were flyers put up of you, Bea?"

"At least a year in the Massachusetts area, then I came here. I never saw any in New York. When I went back to Boston two years ago, there were none."

"Was the number always the same?"

"I never saved any of them, I didn't have those concerns back then. I didn't even want people to see me looking at them. I thought it was but can't be sure. Why?"

"I'm wondering how long we'll have to investigate the number before it's cut off."

"We've got some time. I could hire someone to look into it but the idea does not appeal to me. This is my business and mine alone."

"Ours alone," Allie said.

"Ours alone," I corrected, a rare warmth in my chest.

"You'll keep us up to date on what you discover?"

"I will."

The cat sat proudly in the chair at the head of the table, eyes gleaming, Allie passing him titbits every so often.

"He's like a dog," I commented and Carmel laughed. A soft, tinkling sound, as if she were sharing an inside joke with herself; quite unlike the throaty laugh she employed for television characters.

I don't know what it was about Carmel, maybe it's something all performers have, but in future days I found myself watching her, trying to figure out exactly what it was she knew that the rest of the world didn't. Bearing in mind she was the only one of us who didn't have an extra sense, the sentiment was peculiar.

The perimeter alarm pulled me from a deep sleep that night. Immediately alert, I lurched out of bed, pulled the gun from my nightstand and rushed out to the main area. Nothing was visible on any of the monitors but the alarm still sounded, ear-piercingly loud. In a panic, I left the basement and ascended the stairs two at a time.

"What is it?" I gushed when I saw them standing by the front door control with their backs to me. The alarm finally cut off as Carmel tapped in the code

"It was an accident, it's alright," she announced and Allie turned to face me.

"Oh," she breathed, looking me up and down. "Scandalous."

I peered down at myself then tried to spread my arms over my vulnerable areas. "Damn."

When Carmel turned around herself, she did her best to hide a laugh, took the satin robe she wore straight off and pulled it around my shoulders. It smelled like honey and coconut. With maybe a faint hint of sex.

"Close your mouth, Allie. Animal." She shook her head.

"An accident?" I asked for confirmation.

"I didn't realize Guido was still outside. It's loud, huh? Least we know it's reliable."

"Is he in now?"

"He's in. Do alerts go through to a security company?"

"No. The alarms are for our ears only." My racing heart began to slow and I pulled the robe tighter around myself, embarrassed now the adrenaline was dispersing. "Sorry," I muttered. "I sleep naked."

"And with a .45."

"Yes." I glanced at the pistol in my hand and scrunched my toes into the carpet. "Sorry," I repeated.

"Oh, I don't mind," Allie said, grinning from ear to ear. "Feel free to wander naked whenever you want."

"Good grief." I rolled my eyes. "I'm going back to bed. I'll be taking the gown."

It was the first example I saw of imbalance in their relationship. I didn't pay much attention to it at the time. Later I realized, if Carmel had ogled me that way, Allie would have been furious, but apparently it was alright for her.

Chapter Four

Homefront

It would take me a week to find where the gate guard had worked, but the effort was absolutely worth it.

It wouldn't have taken so long had I not needed to go into the city frequently, and I spent a good number of hours in conversation with my guests. I didn't completely realize it then, but I was dragging the process out unnecessarily because I liked the position I found myself in. It was nice; I had hope, purpose, and friends. When I found William Mann's former workplace, at least one of those things would change.

I had their driver's licenses for them by Tuesday, with the names Carmel Rey and Allie Nelson. Carmel still did not seem enthusiastic about spending much time out of the house, and, excepting jokes about her legality to drive now, Allie was happy where ever she was.

They included me in their evening meals; the resistance was weak at first, then non-existent. Neither pushed me to eat with them, but it felt disrespectful to decline their offer and when I did, the plate they left in the fridge taunted me. Rapidly, my strict routines were knocked off course, I started to enjoy food. It was their status as insiders to a life I'd kept hidden for so long which made them different. I can't say it wasn't weird having them around, but the circumstances were just as strange for them; understanding that made it easier.

The walls that had been lowered during my visions, were now breaking down.

I subjected myself to Allie's memories three more times. She'd been worked on by two scientists only in her memory, neither of whom I recognized. A male with a thick beard, and a tall, thin woman with dirty blonde hair. They both looked in their late twenties, similar age groups to the three I remembered testing me. Surprisingly young to be doing such work without a visible superior. Like with me, they did not treat her like a human being, giving her orders and avoiding direct eye contact.

I didn't see much evidence of Allie's trauma; her emotions could be jumpy but she was almost manic in her upbeat mood. I wondered, watched her, waiting for the other pole, depression, to show through.

Carmel was close to Allie's opposite. She could be inscrutable for long periods, then suddenly portray a sharp, unexpected emotion, her ability to diffuse tension with humor was priceless. She joined me at my bag in the morning and when I wasn't there, she worked on flexibility and precision. By the end of that first week, we were enduring sessions in which we both ended up bruised and sore. She was apologetic at first, but I knew she secretly enjoyed it.

Allie rarely left us alone together, watching the bouts while drinking a bottomless cup of coffee and slinging insults. She was relaxed as long as they remained combative, but the occasions I stopped to show Carmel a technique requiring less aggressive touch, I kept my distance, hyperaware of her censure. The emotional bond between us established slowly, but one of Allie's feelings was always obvious - she worried about losing Carmel; it was the most irrational side she exhibited - somehow, some way, Carmel would leave her. Maybe I felt it more potently because it was the one thing she couldn't share with Carmel. It petrified her, and so, it became an ingrained fear of my own. Were Carmel to leave, the spider's downhill plummet would be prompt and acute.

Perhaps as a direct result of this, something more troubling emerged during that week. - I began seeing small fragments of Carmel's past.

The first came while I was in the shower Tuesday night.

I saw a large, open-plan living area where a twilit cityscape glittered beyond the windows and electronic music throbbed incessantly in the background. Carmel paced the length of the room, bare foot, with a skimpy shift dress on. She babbled in such fast Spanish I could not make out the subject matter. A man lay, eyes shut, in an armchair and another sat on the carpet, face and arms collapsed on a low, cut-glass coffee table. Next to him, baggies of white powder, exposed lines, and a bulkier bag of brownish pills. Another woman, and the only other person who appeared vaguely cognizant, sat on the sofa, focused on Carmel, but not responding verbally to her rant; clearly off the planet on something. Carmel interrupted her pacing to stop in front of the woman, she bent down, grabbed her face and stared into her eyes. "Bien?" That I understood. The woman responded with a vacant, "Vine a practicar líneas," then leaned toward Carmel who moved away. "Esta bien. Donde estaba." She resumed her pacing and ranting.

Three subsequent visions, all of achingly similar scenes, occurred that week.

It wasn't uncommon for me to receive random visions that had no relevance. They happened, and could sometimes be accidentally useful. The specificity of these views to the pretender's past and the increasing frequency they occurred, made me uneasy. They were trying to tell me something; I thought the obvious directive was, Don't trust her, she's trouble. At the same time this message teased, the pretender was becoming indispensable. I did trust her, more every day, and I needed her to keep the spider under control. On top of this, I liked her. The duality was frustrating and I kept my insights to myself to begin with. It was, after all, the past. Nothing about her indicated she was still that person.

On Wednesday night after dinner, she joined me in the basement, a rare moment without Allie watching.

"Allie's getting impatient," she said. "I can feel it from her. How's it coming with the gate guard?"

"She's getting impatient?" I spun to her skeptically. "Does she realize I've spent four years without making any progress at all?"

She nodded in understanding. "She's found your cleaning products and started the upstairs rooms. She gets hyperactive sometimes, as if she's scared to think or talk. She might be up there for hours, I've learned to leave her to it. Guido usually sits on his fat ass watching over her."

"I didn't think she liked leaving us alone together," I said and she chuckled.

"She's developing a crush on you herself."

"What?" I turned to her, startled and she offered me an easy smile.

"Allie is like a child in so many ways."

"Is she giving you a hard time?" I'd begun to feel Carmel enabled her too much. "Because I know she's had a rough go of it but that doesn't mean she's allowed to hurt you."

"She doesn't hurt me! Jesus, I'm not some delicate little flower, I tell her where to stick it if she says something rude."

"I'm not talking about words," I said somberly and she met my gaze.

"She would never hurt me, she has a heart of gold."

"I know." I shook my head. "She should know how lucky she is to have you though."

I didn't want to point out how it might be if Allie unraveled, how it could turn out if she didn't have the aforementioned heart-of-gold. Power like hers could do very bad things in the wrong hands. Carmel knew it, discussing it was unproductive, possibly toxic.

"Thanks for being defensive, it's good to know I have someone in my corner if she gets lippy." She pivoted her chair back and forth a few times then asked. "What was she doing in the chopper?"

"My guess, she was being transferred, either because they had human subjects lined up for her to work on at a different place, or because they wanted to start more invasive testing. Insertion of electrodes directly into the brain, straight out vivisection."

"Fuck Bea," she grimaced, "you just come out with this like it's nothing."

"I try to remain clinical because that's how they think. Of course," I mused, "it doesn't explain why they had cash. But fifty thousand isn't that much when you think about it. Maybe the people at the other end needed it for something unrelated to Allie."

"My point was, they have more than one location."

I nodded. "God knows how many they might have."

"My muscles are sorer than they've ever been, I quite like it." She rubbed at her neck, frowning thoughtfully.

"What's bothering you?"

"Aside from the obvious?" She tilted her head. "Money. What I've got won't last much more than a year, I can't work and I have no fucking idea what the future holds."

"I thought thinking ahead wasn't your style."

"I have a lot more to worry about than just myself now."

"When the time comes, I'll show you both how to get money. I could organize for you to be employed by CVS but it would only be necessary as a cover. If this works out-"

"You don't even have a plan," she interrupted, "and I'm not comfortable being dependent on you."

"Tough tit. I'm dependent on you, it's only fair I should have some power too," I said and she swiveled to me with a smirk.

"Geez. Who knew you were such a bitch." She cringed and shivered. "I hate that word. Tit."

"Hmm. I hear your concerns and think you should do what you've always done, concentrate on now and trust me. Allie can get money whenever she wants, she just needs to learn the ropes. And you have control over Allie."

"You're overstepping," she cautioned.

"If the shoe fits," I shrugged. "Also, I agree, tit is an awful word."

The exchange rang light but deepened my worry about Carmel leaving, my visions of her past still unresolved in their clarity. I knew she itched to ask about Laura Brams and how I was able to procure false identifications so easily, but she hadn't questioned me further since Allie's comment at the dinner table.

The following night, both were in the basement with me. It was the safety and access it offered that kept them there, I was getting used to their presence.

Just before nine Carmel stretched and leaned over to pull Allie's headphones around her neck.

"Are you good here for a while?" she asked. "I thought I could go for a drive."

"I'll come with you."

"Let her go, Allie," I said, keeping my eyes on my screen. "I'd rather you stay here."

"I... You'll be alright?" she asked Carmel.

"Yeah. I need to stop by Mist, I'm running low on vape juice and they don't close till ten. I won't be long."

"Okay," she said reluctantly and turned to me when we saw her leave the gate. "Why?"

"Carmel's a loner, you have to give her breathing space sometimes."

"I know," she said softly.

"I'm quite hurt," I admitted. "My company is so boring."

"Yes," she agreed. "You are awful. Good to look at though."

"I'll tell her if you flirt with me."

"It's not much of a threat, she agrees."

"Go back to your movie. Flake."

"Hmm." She leaned back and cricked her neck. I was reading again by the time she asked, "You've never let anyone in, have you?"

"Huh?"

"Love. Relationships."

"No. What's it like?"

"It's scary," she confessed. "And heaven."

"You're lucky."

"Carmel's mine," she sighed. "I'll never let her go."

I nodded and turned away. Her possessiveness genuinely annoyed me, talking about her like she was property. My premeditated response was to keep my mouth shut and remember what a lovely person Allie was in every other way. If Carmel let it slide, I had no right to be bothered.

She wheeled her chair over to Carmel's computer and studied the screen.

"'MKULTRA Subproject 68. In 1957, a CIA front organization funded experiments designed to depattern individuals, erasing their minds and memories, reducing them to the mental level of an infant, then rebuilding their personalities in a manner of their choosing. Patients were placed into drug-induced comas for up to 88 days and applied numerous high voltage electric shocks over a course of weeks or months. Psychic driving was then used...'" She broke off and turned to me with a frown. "Do you know she's reading about this stuff?"

"I know."

She was doing as she said and exposing herself to facts. For an average citizen, this material would be disturbing; Carmel's personal involvement in an altogether too current example would make it worse for her, but she wasn't shying away. She was involving herself in our cause, making it her own. It was as it should be.

"No wonder she needs air."

Allie was fidgety for the next fifteen minutes, angst in her bearing. Eventually she left her computer and lay down on the sofa with the tablet against her knees. She wanted to protect Carmel as much as Carmel wanted to protect her. It was a sorry state, but love can survive in dark places, can't it?

She was grumpy by the time Carmel returned, demanding they go upstairs.

Both of them had reason to disappear permanently on me.

*

It was late Friday morning when I locked down William Mann's former employers. My instant elation and thirst to investigate was ruined by an unfortunate complication.

Allie's crankiness from last night had extended into the morning. It didn't seem to affect Carmel but I was ignorant to what the problem was; my only method for dealing was to simply overlook it. When I found the facility in Colorado the gate guard had worked at, I wanted to tell them straight away. I was excited, I'd finally jumped a hurdle. But I'd only spent ten minutes looking into it when I caught Carmel on the front entrance camera. She stalked from house, slamming the door, and took off out the gate in the Lexus.

Something was wrong, I'd never seen her look truly upset before. The timing couldn't have been worse.

I went upstairs and found Allie in their room, sitting on the bed, staring at the floor. The bedroom had an unstrung feel to it and Guido sat on top of a dresser; eyes alert, tail flicking in agitation.

"What's happened? Where's Carmel gone?" My anxiety she would leave for a bender zeroed to needle point. "Allie?"

She didn't react, just stared at the carpet in a trance. I pulled my phone from my pocket and tried calling Carmel's but it went straight to voicemail. I left a brief message, hung up and sat down next to Allie. I put my hand on her shoulder and watched a silent tear slide from her eye.

"What happened?" I asked as gently as possible.

It took a few moments before she croaked, "I said horrible things," huskily.

"I'm sure you didn't mean them."

"I did mean them. She knows and now she's gone. We're supposed to be together forever."

"Why did you fight?"

"I was upset because you two talk about me when I'm not there. I don't like it," she sniveled pitifully. It took effort to keep my voice calm and not roll my eyes.

"We talk about her and she doesn't get snippy."

"Why would she? She doesn't have feelings of her own, she feeds off mine."

"For the love of... You can't expect her to be yours without showing her the respect she deserves." I'd ended up in the role of peacekeeper. I could picture the scene vividly without a vision; she'd have attacked Carmel in a jealous rage, and now she was complaining about it. "It's one thing if you want to end things with her-"

"I don't!" she yelled. "How could you say such a thing?"

"Then why be nasty to her? Saying she doesn't have feelings." I shook my head.

"It's not my fault, I don't know what's real anymore."

"Dammit, Allie, I'm not going to sit here saying the way you treat her is right. It isn't. She's way too soft on you and you take her for granted."

"You want her for yourself, that's why you're being this way."

The accusation was unfair; I lost my patience, my voice rose.

"Even if that were true, she would never betray you. She gave up her whole life and you'd be in a gutter somewhere, just like I was, if it weren't for her. But how do you respond? With paranoia and more demands!" The outburst had been building for a while and was way out of line. No way should I be kicking her when she was down.

"I know," she said quietly.

Her face fell into stone and she dropped to the pillows, refusing to respond to my apology and further entreaties. My bedside manner had fallen epically flat. I would have to find Carmel if I wanted to achieve a rational resolution.

"I'll get her back, don't worry. Just stay here." I gave Guido a comforting scratch before I left. "You look after her for a bit." Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid. I could have sworn he winked in confirmation.

Carmel was at Nicolini's, a small bistro right on the waterfront. She sat at a table outside, staring out to sea, a bottle of Corona beside her.

"Carmel." I approached and she turned.

"Have a seat." She gestured. "I intend to finish this beer whether you're here or not."

I went inside, ordered a Heineken and brought it back to the table.

"A woman after my own heart," she said as I sat down, staring at the shimmering ocean.

"It's nice here," I observed and took a sip. "You pick good spots."

"How did you know where I was?"

"The tracker on your phone works even when it's in airplane mode."

"Why doesn't that annoy me as much as it should?" she chuckled.

"Because you knew as soon as I gave you the thing," I stated flatly and she nodded. I took a few moments pause before beginning, "I made an important friend in New York."

She narrowed her eyes, captured by my tone. She probably expected me to launch straight into interrogation on Allie, but the moment alone felt right to get a side issue out of the way.

"Okay," she said uncertainly.

"I gave him a piece of information he couldn't have got anywhere else. It was a personal matter, something he was extremely grateful for. It was always going to be safer to use my visions to garner loyalty, not enemies, so blackmail was never an option. I've offered him information on three occasions since, and he knows he can trust it without demanding an explanation. I haven't asked for much in return, mainly identification, weapons and clean hardware. I won't go into detail but I want you to trust me about the future. I have people I can use, if I need them. At least, Laura does, Bea is unknown."

"Okay," she repeated and studied me. "Thank you for giving me something. Why now?"

"Because I want something from you. You were a party girl in Mexico."

"It's just one beer," she frowned.

"I'm not talking about the beer."

"What are you talking about?" She waited, then said, "You've seen something from my past."

"Yes. Random scenes where you are orbiting Saturn. I don't know why I keep seeing them but it's making me worried about you. I want to know if you're invested in being here. Allie needs you."

She sighed and rubbed her cheeks.

"I wasn't a party girl, I just liked drugs a lot. I must have a hole in my brain from all the ecstasy I've taken."

"That kind of lifestyle isn't easy to move on from so abruptly and completely."

"Coke isn't like heroin," she said, referring to my story of the real Bea Redding. "The addiction is more psychological than anything. I used to make me forget how bored and disillusioned I was, that situation's changed drastically."

"Maybe you're an adrenaline junkie."

"Does it matter? Even if I wanted to, which I don't, I'm not going back to drugs, I physiologically can't. Second, I wouldn't lie to you; I've come to think of you as a friend and I haven't been able to say that about many people. You're pretty hard to get to know but that's something I can relate to. Third, her bullshit aside, I love Allie, you're crazy if you think I'd let it go for a quick fix."

I believed her. I said, "She's fragile on her own, it's only through you she gets her strength."

"How do you figure that?"

"She takes emotion from most people, but you, you can take hers. Everything she has to give, all the excess she couldn't cope with by herself. But you know that, don't you?"

"You have all the right things to say." She leaned back. "It's a rush. She makes me real."

"So? What happened, why'd you storm off?"

"We had a fight," she shrugged. "It's a glitch, inconvenient but temporary."

"She's always been possessive, it's never upset you like this."

"I take it she didn't tell you the whole story."

"She wasn't making a lot of sense. She's been in a foul mood since yesterday. I assumed she was either getting cold feet about being here or it was her usual jealous B.S."

"That I could handle." She frowned and cocked her head. "In the heat of the moment, she blurted out something I can't ignore. She thinks I'm incapable of love, she thinks she projected her own feelings onto me, cast some kind of empathic spell. Without it, we wouldn't have anything."

"Whoa," I grimaced. "That is a lot to take on."

"Ya think?"

I fell silent for a few moments, considering the idea before I spoke.

"I don't think she believes that at all. I don't believe that, I saw how you treated her right from the second you found her. She's scared, that's all."

"Look, I'm not saying there wasn't sex before Allie, there was. But I never enjoyed it like with her, it was mostly about them, you know?" - I didn't know - "And I certainly never had any real relationships or been in love. I didn't think I could. You see my problem? Maybe she's right."

"You've had the same thought yourself, that's why you're so upset."

"It upset me because I hadn't thought of it before. I had no clue Allie was so insecure."

"You know it makes sense though."

"Which makes it way worse. Like someone with money can never be sure if people aren't after them for that. But when we're together, our feelings are so certain, so powerful; I thought we had a kind of purity. Strange how fear can break down even the strongest bonds."

"Would you want to give it up if it was something she'd done?" I delved straight to the crux of the matter and she took a while to answer.

"No. I've never felt so alive." Simple but certain.

"I yelled at her," I admitted. "I shouldn't have done that, I thought it was just one of her silly tantrums. I compare her to myself too much - because I had to get tough, she should too. It's wrong to think that way, it's exactly what I wanted to protect her from by finding her."

"She isn't nearly as vulnerable as she appears. She just likes playing up her weaknesses to get her own way."

"Maybe you just don't like it when she slips out of your control."

"Not true, I like how free she is. But even you must see that she needs to be told where to go sometimes."

"A lot of the time," I agreed.

"I'm not a robot, Bea," she announced with an air of superiority. "Love isn't something you can belittle like that without consequences."

"You don't really believe it then, you're just angry she said it."

"Yes, I am. She wanted a reaction, she fucking got it." Occasions like this, their similarities showed. She squinted at me. "You're smiling."

"It's just, I'm a little relieved, you two are too perfect most of the time; it's sickening."

"Hey," she responded defensively, a tiny smile creeping into her eyes. "You're right of course. If this is the extent of our problems, it can't be that bad."

I nodded and took a sip.

"I'm still confused about why I keep seeing these bits of your past," I disclosed and she stared at me for a few moments in silence.

"Can I make a crack observation?"

"Go ahead."

"You've spent the last four years alone and before that you were held in captivity by psychopaths. Now suddenly, you have the two of us in your life, in your head, in your business. I know the risk you took inviting us here. Deep down, there's always going to be a part of you which will struggle to trust us, which will insist you made a mistake with us. I think that part of you is just making itself heard in whatever way it can."

"You latched on to that one pretty easy," I frowned. "Because you feel it too?"

"I understand solitude. Not in the same way as you, but, you know." She paused lengthily. "It's going to take Allie a long time to learn to live in the world with any level of normalcy, I know that."

"Yes. It's taken me four years to get to this point and my ordeal was far less painful. If you don't come back, she'll lose it."

"I would never abandon her. Her suggestion brought up some issues, it requires half an hour sulk time."

She was coming back, that was the important thing. I hesitated, staring at her. She must have recognized the twinkle in my eye and raised her brows in question.

"I've found the place in Colorado," I said quietly. She slapped her palm on the table top and leaned forward, eyes wide with anticipation. "It's a facility alright, big place."

"You could have opened with that!"

"I only just found it before I saw you leave, and I'd rather we all talk about it together."

"Fair play," she nodded. "What are we waiting for?"

"Will Allie even want to know?"

"Oh yeah. She's been talking about the number on the flyer, saying we should be looking into that. I told you she was getting impatient." She drained her bottle and stood up, my relief was immense. "I'll stop somewhere and get her a peace offering, but I'll be right behind you."

"It'll give me a chance to apologize for yelling."

"Thanks Bea, and I'm sorry for the drama."

"Small price," I shrugged. "See you in a bit."

Allie was scrubbing the floor in one of the bathrooms when I got back, surrounded by cleaning products. She looked up as I walked in, but her face fell when she saw I was alone. Guido perched on the lowered toilet seat; I took the side of the tub and watched as she resumed scrubbing.

"I shouldn't have said what I did, I'm sorry." I didn't expect her to respond so was surprised when she spoke.

"You were right," she said tightly.

"I wasn't. I made it sound like you owe Carmel something and that's not what I meant at all. I only meant, she loves you."

"I know she loves me, I just don't know why. I'm a horrible person."

"You're not horrible, you're lovely. You get a bit carried away sometimes, you've had to take on a lot so soon. Come and talk to me, I might have some idea what you're going through."

She continued her mechanical scrubbing for another half minute before she dropped the scouring pad and sat back on her knees with deep frown. Eventually, she came and lowered herself on the side of the tub next to me, head bowed, shoulders hunched, hands clenched together. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she pulled a clump of tissue from her jeans pocket. It took a minute before she spoke.

"When I found Saf, I was sick and so scared, but she took care of me. She touched me; she was afraid, but she touched me anyway. She let me in. She was... The most beautiful thing I'd ever seen." She paused, choked up, eyes on the floor, before continuing, "She showed me how the world is, made me feel safe, gave me confidence. I couldn't believe it, I didn't understand how it was possible for people to live this way and be so nice. And for them not to know about people like me. I was sure one day I'd see evidence they did know about me and just didn't care. I was a dirty little secret that no one talked about because I wasn't normal. I was supposed to suffer because I was dangerous." She stopped and wiped at her eyes, blew her nose.

"But it's not like that at all, and you still can't believe it."

"It's too good to be true. Ever since the helicopter, all the time I've been with Carmel, us being here with you, someone like me. And you're thinking about some kind of revolt, as if we're allowed to, entitled to. It's just not real, I'm going to wake up any second and I'll be back in that cell with them coming to get me..." She broke off with a sob.

I spread my arm across her shoulders and squeezed gently.

"I feel like that too. I wake up in the night and it's easy to believe I'm still locked up. It's normal to feel it. I was starting to worry with you acting like everything is okay. Everything isn't okay." She nodded and a tear slid from her eye. "Carmel's never going to be able to place herself in our position, but she understands amazingly well in her own way."

"I know."

"What I need to know is, do you want to be here? Do you want to help me figure this out?"

"Yes, but... I love her so much."

I understood what she was implying, the difficulty of dividing her attention between two opposing channels, love and acrimony. It was shocking she could even concentrate on one.

"She adores you."

"How can that be? How can life be so beautiful? I don't understand anything."

"The only way to know you're not still there, is to open your eyes. Do you want to keep her?"

"I won't cope without her. I just won't. I won't be able to help you."

"Then you need to learn to accept her love without questioning why. If you don't, you'll push her away."

"I already have. What if she doesn't come back?"

Bleakness pulsed from her. I put my hand on hers and opened myself up.

"She's coming back." Her bottom lip protruded and expression lifted, her eyes met mine. "She'll be here soon."

It took a few moments before she threw her arms around my shoulders and squeezed me back and forth - she was rather strong for someone who never exercised.

"You found her!" She kissed my cheek twice. "I love you forever."

Damned if I couldn't feel the truth of those words; for a moment I was afraid, wondering if I'd been too nice. Then she pulled back and looked at me, worried.

"Is she angry?"

"You hurt her feelings. How could you suggest she doesn't have emotions? That's awful."

"I promised I'd never hurt her." Her eyes went misty again.

"People in love always hurt each other. Will you make it better?"

She stared at me wide-eyed. "I'll do everything possible."

I considered mentioning my discovery, but it could wait until they'd smoothed things over.

"When she gets here, would you stay calm? Don't rush up and do what you always do, don't be overbearing. You're like a bull at a gate with her, it's setting the bar for an imbalanced relationship." Maybe some of Carmel's talent for bullshit was rubbing off on me - like I knew the first thing about relationships. "Can you do that?"

"Anything," she nodded eagerly. "As long as she's here."

I sighed silently. It was going to be hard to change Allie's attitudes in these areas; Carmel was right, she was like a child in a lot of ways. It was understandable. I'd said my piece and she'd agreed to try, it was a step in the right direction.

"Oh and Bea?" she said incidentally as she bent to gather the cleaning products. "It's okay if you want her, it's not as if you can help it. As long as she stays with me, it doesn't matter."

I rolled my eyes and left the room. I didn't want Carmel. I liked her, but I didn't want her. She swore too much and let her emotions get the better of her too little. How had she even ended up here with the two of us outcasts? Acting as if she didn't have a way better life she could be living. No, I didn't want her.

Chapter Five

Shall We?

Half an hour later, I was starting to think she had changed her mind, when she finally pulled back through the gate. She smiled lightly when she closed the door behind her in the entrance hall.

"I'm here, I haven't absconded." She carried a single white rose wrapped in cellophane, petals blushing with the faintest pink.

My reply was cut off by Allie's footsteps hurrying down the stairs and I watched as she stopped short at the bottom, glanced at me, and, heeding my cautionary words, simply stared at Carmel, chest heaving; an expression of absolute yearning on her face. It was both amusing and a little sad, so my relief flooded when Carmel started toward her.

She stood a couple of feet away and held the rose out.

Allie's face crumpled, eyes welling up. Nothing would have stopped her then, she lunged and flung her arms around Carmel, squeezing the life out of her.

"We'll be down shortly, Bea," Carmel called through compressed lungs, when I turned to retreat back to the basement.

It was forty five minutes before Allie burst in, Carmel behind her.

"You've found something?" she gushed.

I rotated my chair, nodding. There was no indication of doubt in either of them; they were expectant, Allie gripping Carmel's hand. I turned back to my screen and enlarged the image on it.

"This is it." They stood close on my left side. "The larger campus is the Hadden Hospital for Neuroscience. It's this one," I gestured to the smaller campus a short distance away, "we're looking at. A sister facility, the Hadden Brain Research Institute. It's fenced and there are stations at three different entrance gates - this is where William Mann would have been employed."

"A brain research institute." I turned to see Allie studying the image intently, inches from my face. "Yes. You've found it." Her tone laden with a thick soup of emotion.

"The town is fairly small, just this side of the Rocky Mountains and monopolized by the hospital. People go from all over the country for treatment of brain-related diseases and disorders. Tumors, spinal cord injuries, aneurysms, that kind of thing. It's cutting edge."

"Such a large place," Carmel commented. "They must have a public website?"

"Yes." I tapped, pulling it onto my screen.

"Have you been through it?"

"I haven't had time yet, I've mainly been looking at what other sites say about them to see if I can find anything critical. They're not going to be putting something untoward in their own public domain, but it looks like a big site, it's one of my first steps - learn everything I can about it."

"And ours. It will be quicker with all of us," Allie said. She moved away and opened the page on a different monitor.

"They'll have listings of employees," Carmel said, sitting down at her own keyboard. "Photos too."

I nodded slowly at them busying themselves. They were involved. It went without saying.

There were photos, hundreds of them. An administration team, cell team, brain team, immunology team. An advisory board, two advisory councils, plus independent collaborators.

Carmel started printing out photos of the people with the greatest power and pinning them to one of the walls. Edward Fong - Chief Executive Officer, Ayda Demsky - Chief Technical Officer, Sergei Vasiliev - Executive Director.

Allie went through the pictures silently like I did. No one jumped out from my memories of captivity and I saw neither of the scientists who had worked on Allie. Nor was there a Simon Hughes listed, but that was hardly surprising. They were not posting photos of all their workers; the listings were researchers, engineers and medical doctors - security was not part of it.

Only one photo made me feel something, though I couldn't put a finger on why. A silver-haired man in his mid-sixties, smile lines circling his eyes and mouth and a throat hidden by wobbly looking double chins. I printed it out and added it to the wall, staring thoughtfully. Allie came over after a while and stood at my side.

"He looks familiar to me too." Her voice was quiet and I glanced at her sharply. "He looks like a nice enough man, but I don't like him. He's wrong."

"Something's there," I agreed. "I don't know what it is."

"Liam Gould." Carmel moved her chair closer. "Senior Director of the Borders Program. Ph.D., M.D. He's high, he could be someone you knew from before your memories were erased."

The subconscious again, the beautiful subconscious.

"You don't feel anything about the others?"

"No," we both said at once, and Allie added, "But I haven't been through them all yet."

I fidgeted and shifted my weight between legs, unable to tear my eyes from the photo. Whatever needling feeling was there remained stubbornly out of reach.

"What does it say about this Border Group?" I asked.

"Borders Program. 'Started with $10 million seed money from billionaire Frederick Scholz. Combine emerging technologies to create unprecedented, transformational advancements in bioscience'," Carmel quoted straight from a page. "It doesn't say anything about avenues of research, it reads like an advertisement. It might be the kind of work that opens a window to messed up stuff," she pondered.

"Someone we knew from before," I mumbled and turned to Allie. "You think?"

"Maybe. If we both feel something and he's the only one, he's the best we've got. We need to know more about him."

"Yes." A direction to head in. "I'll check resources for info, start building a profile."

"I have to finish going through these photos."

With the exception of a very late lunch and supper break, insisted upon by Carmel, we continued searching late into the night. A road map and satellite images of the town and campuses were added to the wall.

Liam Gould's profile had a few bones to it, but no juicy flesh. His online presence was minimal, dominated by academic achievements and predictable lifetime milestones - a marriage, a divorce, a daughter graduating from Dartmouth. He had been involved in the Institute since at least 2010, meaning it was possible he'd had contact with both of us. Which opened up a new galaxy of questions in my head; where did we see him? How? How many others? How many other places? What else did Allie and I have in common? Impractical ideas, drifting and painful.

By the time I got to bed, a deep, throbbing ache had fixed in my frontal lobe and I suspected the others felt the same, dragging themselves wearily up the stairs. I tossed and turned well into the early hours of Saturday morning before I gave in and went to get some Tylenol - a practice I surrendered to so rarely I didn't even keep it in the basement.

The house was still and dark, the empty kitchen silent.

The rose Carmel bought stood in a thin, crystal vase, still wrapped in cellophane. I breathed its rich aroma and snuck a glance at the card. She had set out a short poem in tiny, handwritten print, The White Rose, by John Boyle O'Reilly. It was the most beautiful thing; I wondered how Allie could ever accuse her of being emotionless. Reading it, the throbbing in my head shifted focus, moved to my chest. I realized what it was, not envy, but full on jealousy. Allie's comment was working its way under my skin.

I crept back to my lonely bed, desperate for at least a couple of hours sleep.

The pain in my frontal lobe had dissolved when I woke Saturday morning, but I was achy and a little depressed. At least I had plenty to occupy my time today. Allie was already back in front of her screen when I came out.

"How long have you been up?"

"Not long," she grunted without tearing her eyes from the page in front of her. "I'm doing a brief scan of social media accounts and blogs to see if any of them talk about work."

A long-shot, I thought, but long-shots sometimes came through. It was the same kind of obsessive lengths I went to with online resources when I got an idea in my head.

By late afternoon she'd passed out on the sofa.

"She didn't get much sleep last night," Carmel said quietly when she noticed me looking at her.

"Me either," I sighed, my eyes drawn back to the picture of the Senior Director. "Only three malpractice lawsuits have been filed against the hospital in the past five years and all were personal negligence cases in which the doctors involved were let go. They have no relevance to what we're looking for."

Carmel checked her clock and whispered, "Come up to the kitchen so we can talk. I'm going to start dinner."

"It could take us days to get through the information online," she raised her voice upstairs and I sat down at the counter and rested my head in my arms. Cold rain, blowing in from the east, beat against the windows.

"I know, and we're not going to get anything juicy out of it. Not one damn thing."

"But you've already got something juicy," she said, surprising me with her optimistic tone.

"I have?"

"The Borders Program. Liam Gould."

"True," I nodded. "It's doing a number on my head though. Is everything okay between you and Allie?"

"Hard to say for sure," she said and when I looked at her in surprise, she continued, "I'm inclined to think, if there's a deficiency of emotion, it lies in her, not me." Then she changed the subject abruptly with, "I've seen you looking at the webpage for that lodge in the area. You're thinking about going, aren't you?"

"If I can get some eyes on the place, see who's coming and going..." I trailed away. "I don't know."

"Allie will want to go too, you know that, right? You won't be able to stop her."

"It's as much her affair, if not more, she's entitled to her anger. What about you?"

"She won't do anything without me. Isn't it what you wanted? For us to get involved."

"All the way, doing this on my own would be a nightmare. Just because I'm the one who initiated it, doesn't mean I'm not terrified of opening Pandora's Box as well." As she removed vegetables from the fridge, I added, "Let me help."

"Chop these. We'll have spaghetti bolognaise; fast, easy brain food," she said, pushing an onion and capsicum across the counter, then continued, "What's been to you is wrong, never doubt that fixing it is a noble ambition."

"Do you think we're getting in over our heads?"

"I don't know about you or Allie, but I'm way out of my depth. It doesn't mean I'm not totally behind you. At first, all I wanted was to keep her safe, but now... This is heavy shit. What if we're the only ones paying attention? What kind of person could turn away from that?"

"Ninety percent of the world's population," I estimated.

"I don't think I could. I'd always wonder; could I have done more? Should I have?" She was rendered simplistic by emotion but I nodded my understanding. She changed her tone, announcing, in a blue-blooded English accent, "'The fundamental cause of the trouble, is that in the modern world, the stupid are cocksure, while the intelligent are full of doubt.'"

"Nicely put," I laughed.

"Bertrand Russell knew his beans."

She had a way of making everything seem okay. It became clearer to me every day why the spider needed her so badly. I found myself admiring her hazel eyes, smoldering with yellow and black flecks, her honey highlighted cocoa hair. Allie was wrong when she compared it to mine; Carmel's had far more gloss to it, it practically shone. I lowered my gaze back to the chopping board in a fluster. Allie was projecting her feelings for Carmel onto me. What a mess. I only needed to stay focused on my goal. Our goal. That was my job, to direct a pathway to understanding. These were the worst possible circumstances for me to grow a libido. She really shouldn't have offered me insight into her sex life; Allie would be livid if she knew. The thought produced a clandestine smile.

"Can I ask you something?" I said, keeping my eyes on my chopping.

"Of course."

"Was your life really so awful? In Mexico?"

"No," she startled at the question. "It wasn't awful at all. Why would you think that?"

"I'm trying to understand how you could give it up so easily."

She paused for a few moments, thoughtful.

"It was empty," she said finally.

"What does that mean?"

"I didn't like myself," she frowned. "Sometimes I would look at the people around me, comfortable in their perfect little lives, bitching and moaning about the most trivial fucking problems - who got picked over them for a part, why they needed to end a relationship, who cheated on whom." She shook her head. "I never understood why they talked to me about this shit; Christ, it irritated me. But I'd listen and wonder, what's going to happen when the world falls apart? There were times I wanted things to fall apart, just so I could watch them collapse one by one. Watch myself collapse. It was perverse." She glanced at me apologetically. "You probably think it sounds like paradise."

At that point I wished I could understand what she was ranting about in my visions, at least so I had a topic to argue about her motivations. I made a mental note to improve my Spanish.

"Not really," I said. "I feel where you're coming from. Agree on the word perverse though. What's with now then?"

She shrugged. "I feel like I have a chance to do something worthwhile. Even if it makes no difference at all, at least could sleep knowing I tried. To help you and Allie. And it isn't because she and I are together. It's..." She stalled with a pained expression. "It's because she's a beautiful soul, you both are, and you're so special, you should be protected and nurtured not used and abused. If this is a world where that can happen without consequence, then it's rotten to the core and not one I want to be a part of."

I kept my head lowered hoping she wouldn't notice my threatening tears, prepared to blame the onions if she did, and she continued.

"I don't have any talents but I'm here for you. With you."

With the benefit of hindsight, I wish I was the type of person who could have hugged her, thanked her; told her she had her own beautiful soul. But at the time, I was severely constrained by the feelings that were surfacing toward her, and I did the opposite, I brushed her off with, "Maybe you understand now what I meant by stressing the relevance in your personal experience of suffering."

"I understand, Bea."

Allie hadn't hit the precise mark; it wasn't about wanting Carmel, I was starting to love her. A process too alien, too forbidden and too painful for me to comprehend then. There's a chance it was my extraordinarily lonely disposition, latching on to the first real friend I found, but I didn't think so at the time. I blamed Allie completely, there was no doubt in my mind that whatever feelings were there, were only an extension of hers. Her wayward emotions, snaking out and infecting all those close to her. The concern she would have to train herself to keep them in check somehow, was a priority I stored away for when our current goal was achieved. If she was ever going have some semblance of a normal life in safety, she couldn't continue the way she was.

I didn't know what Carmel meant in saying she had a deficiency in feeling, and wasn't comfortable asking. When I looked up from the onions, she was studying me thoughtfully.

"What is it?"

"If we find out who they are, the people responsible for this fiasco - and that's a big IF \- but if we do, and we discover we can get to them, have you thought about that might to lead to?"

"I want their illegal work to stop and I want someone to be held accountable."

"Are we talking public exposure, or are we talking," she hesitated cagily, "about death? Both of those paths have serious complications and problems."

"You didn't feel bad about killing one of them, why should I?"

She removed a tray of mincemeat from the freezer and set it on the counter to defrost.

"It's a big institute," she continued. "It has a lot of history, a lot of funding. Kill one and ten more might rise up in their place."

"So I remain inert? I realize murder is the less elegant path, believe me."

"And what of the elegant path? What would exposure mean for you and Allie? Not just telling the world about your abilities, but people are dead - the legal system would have a field day with what Allie and I have done, never mind our reasons. And do you think the world is ready to hear about what either of you are capable of?"

"Maybe not now, but in a few years, when they've been prepped. We could find a way without implicating ourselves personally. If we get close enough to gather actual evidence of what's been done, we could send the information we have anonymously."

She nodded slowly. "It's an option. We could handpick a journalist, someone with principles who can't resist a story like this. There are plenty out there." She glanced at me. "It could take a long time before we have evidence, if it's even possible."

"Time and money. For either direction," I agreed. "Are you still with me?"

"Just needed to know what page you were on."

"I mean, we're just talking here, right?" I muttered.

"All talk, of course." She turned back to her spaghetti.

Allie came up not much later. Yawning with a sleepy smile, she wrapped her arms around Carmel's waist from behind, showing no irritation at having caught us conversing without her. The nap had done her good. Or she was still guilty about Friday's incident.

"I'm sick of this," she announced in the basement Sunday morning, so loud I jumped at the surprise of it. "There's nothing here."

I swung my chair toward her. "Agreed," I said.

"Whoever these people are, they're ghosts. There's no link to any of the names or faces we can say for sure did the bad stuff." She stared at the wall with Liam Gould's smiling face on it for the umpteenth time. I knew exactly how she felt; he was like an itch you can't reach, the harder you try, the further away it gets.

"This was never going to be easy. What did you find in social media?"

"Some of them talk about work, but mostly to complain how boring it is. They're just ordinary people, with photos of family and pets." She sounded wistful, likely wondering how they were allowed to have such things when she wasn't.

"Even their lab technicians probably signed non-disclosure agreements as soon as they were hired," Carmel said.

"They're far from sounding like bad people. The institute is closely linked with the hospital, there's a lot of praise for the work they do. They're helping people."

She spat the last sentence and I nodded. From the start they'd known we weren't going to have answers staring us in the face.

"This man," Allie got up and poked her finger hard at the wall photo in accusation, "is all we have."

"Which is just a feeling," I agreed quietly, resisting her anger.

There was a minute of silence before Carmel started talking, her tone the opposite of Allie's; casual, calculated.

"Few people are aware how big a part non-consensual experimentation has played in a lot of scientific and medical breakthroughs. How far we would have been set back without it."

"Are you defending it?" Allie turned to her in disgust.

"No. I'm suggesting maybe the hospital is so successful because they've got shit going on behind the scenes that bends the rules." She massaged her neck idly.

"Yes." Allie's voice softened and she immediately moved to the back of Carmel's chair and started rubbing her shoulders. "We're looking at the right place but we're not going to find what we need online."

"What do we know?" Carmel continued. "We know these people have money but not much power. They're sending people after Allie who don't have badges, identification - they're not even trying to masquerade as authority figures. They're asking for information in flyers without offering any kind of incentive or reward." She raised a third finger. "As you pointed out, their scientific methods aren't just flawed ethically and legally, they're just plain flawed."

"We know they use unimaginative Latin names for subjects with abilities," I added. "We know they've had at least three different locations for human subjects - the building in Boston, the facility Allie was at, which may or may not be Hadden, and where ever it was they were transferring her to."

"Did you ever look into who rented the Boston building?"

"That was a dead-end. It was registered as a front company, Ferdinand's Industrial Cleaning."

"So they're very good at covering their tracks and remaining anonymous, have access to a cutting edge research facility and scientists willing to do their bidding, but..."

"All that and whoever's controlling this show still isn't particularly innovative," I finished.

"They're restricted by fear," Carmel said. "Meaning the power behind them is weak."

"They've got a lot to lose. If they're exposed..." I trailed away.

"What are you thinking?" Allie looked between us.

I went to stare at the images on the wall.

"Time to push off, maybe." Carmel drew up beside me.

"What does that mean?" Allie asked.

"It means Colorado. It means Hadden," I said.

"We go? All of us?"

I turned to her. "Do you want to?" Carmel and I had reached some kind of unspoken agreement in the kitchen yesterday, but how keen Allie was, I didn't know.

She looked at me like the question was outrageous and pointed again at Liam Gould. "I want to see more of this man."

"If I can get close enough to watch him properly, I could start seeing things. That is, if our feeling about him is right. We're not talking about a brief visit," I warned. "What I'm thinking is a few weeks at least to get a good understanding of who is coming and going. I hope to find a face I recognize, but active surveillance is going to require a huge amount of patience." A quality Allie could be sorely lacking in at times.

She swapped a lengthy, expressionless gaze with Carmel. Hell if I knew what feelings they were communicating to each other - the spider's connection with Carmel had gone beyond the point of needing skin contact long before I met them. Expressions are usually deployed to portray emotion; if you can go straight to the emotion itself, the need for stereotypical facial cues drops away to worthlessness.

"We're in," she stated. "Six eyes instead of two, it will be easier if we cooperate."

"We'll need good cameras," Carmel said. "Take shifts watching entrances so no matter who's passing through, the others can see. And going anywhere near Hadden, both of you will have to be heavily disguised."

"So will you, we're not taking any chances. I don't want to risk running into one of the faces who worked on me. Not without seeing them first. I can use Laura but you two will need to have alternate looks, preferably not so easy on the eyes."

"You could teach me how to make fake skin," Allie said.

"You're committing to this then?"

"Yes," Allie said and Carmel nodded.

"I don't know how easy you're going to get on a plane with just licenses." I picked at a nail. "Even for a national flight, a driver's license might be put under an uncomfortable level of scrutiny."

Allie lay my worries to rest with a panicked, "I'm not flying! We'll fall, I know we will."

Forgetting about her bad experience the last time she was in an aircraft, I returned an insensitive, "Alright, don't get your panties in a knot."

"Panties?" She stared at me with a shocked expression then laughed unexpectedly. "Don't get my panties knotted."

"We can drive." Carmel tried to ignore her giggles. "I don't mind."

"Yes. Yes, that's good," I thought out loud. "There are things you can bring in the car, I'll not be able to take on a plane."

They turned to me, Allie's outburst dying away.

"Such as?"

"I mean, maybe we won't need them but better to be prepared."

They questioned me with their eyes. I withdrew a key from one of the desk drawers and went to unlock the door in the far corner of the large room.

"The mysterious door neither of us have been privy to," Carmel commented.

"It's a storage room."

"Ay. Fuck," she breathed as I swung it open and flicked the light switch. "Well, we're not taking all this in the car, we'll be sent to Guantanamo Bay."

"Just a select few things," I settled, grabbing the step ladder.

"Are you preparing for war?" Allie asked, glancing around at the arsenal stacked on metal shelving.

"Weapons are a hobby. A shelf life."

"Jesus, Bea, this is an RPG launcher."

"Yeah, we won't be needing that stuff," I said distractedly and climbed to pull down a medical case.

"How and why... No," Carmel shook her head, "never mind the why." She rewound. "Never mind the how too."

"Some of it won't be a problem. A drone for example might help with visuals we couldn't get otherwise. The weapons are unnecessary, just a few for protection, in case things get complicated. And the tranquilizer gun." I unzipped the kit and looked over the contents; syringes and vials.

"Sodium thiopental," Carmel observed beside me. "Isn't that truth serum?"

"It's a barbiturate. One of these vials would knock someone out but half will depress the nervous system enough to calm anxiety and eliminate pain."

"And this one?"

"Midazolam, more commonly known as Versed. Thiopental only causes unconsciousness for out for about ten minutes, this is better for prolonged sedation. It might come in handy. Anything we can hide in the car. It's not like you'll be searched if you get stopped. Two charming women in an expensive car with all the right papers? Just flash your pretty teeth and you'll be on your way."

"Can teeth be pretty?" Allie asked, fingering a machete. "You could flash your pretty boob?" she suggested.

"That would definitely arouse suspicion. And what have I said about the word boob?"

"She only likes breast, Allie."

"Breasts are good," she agreed. "I like breasts too. Love. Carmel has the most luscious-"

"Put a pin in it, Allie."

Whether it was the contents of the storage room or the simple fact that we had made a decision to proceed, the mood was noticeably altered. Progress. Movement.

"We could be gone a while," Carmel said thoughtfully. "And what happens if we get nothing?"

"That's where I come in." Allie stared at me.

"We make a phone call. Set a trap," I nodded. "I'd probably get us some help with that."

"If we find nothing."

"As a last resort, yes."

*

It would be two days before any of us were ready to leave. I helped them organize an alternate identity for themselves, much different than their current Gothic look. It was a balancing act between ease of slipping into the role and how convincing it was. What we ended up with was Fleur and Helena, two rather frumpy women, complete with extra padding and wrinkles, a process Allie took so much delight in I started to doubt she would be able to keep a straight face if our lives depended on it. I went overboard, adding unnecessary details, like tobacco-stained teeth, just so I could hear her laugh, I didn't want it to stop. It wasn't a natural state for me to be such a sucker for emotions.

The temperature would drop dramatically in Colorado over the coming weeks so warm wardrobes, accentuating plainness, were a must.

Once organized I brought photos into the city for matching identification; this was not a time to cut corners. On Tuesday morning I took inventory of what we needed and helped them load it into the Lexus. They would leave after lunch, while I was booked on a flight from JFK the next day. It meant I would arrive long before them, and although Allie was excited to be back on the road, she appeared worried about travelling separately.

"If we drive six hours today, ten tomorrow and ten Thursday, we'll be there Thursday night," she muttered in the kitchen over lunch. "I don't know why I can't help with driving."

"You need more practice. You don't want to get stopped for something stupid." Or crash.

"You're not going to do anything without us, are you?"

"You're carrying most of the equipment, so, no."

She nodded but frowned anxiously. Carmel, distracted, fiddled with a tablet on the counter, uninvolved in the conversation and barely picking at her plate.

"Look at this," she said eventually and motioned for me to move closer. She had a house on the screen, lakeside. It was beautiful. "It's on the opposite side of town than Hadden. Private, good security system."

"Pretty," Allie said.

"It's expensive but available for immediate lease. The owner is a music director who spends most of the year working overseas. What do you think?"

"It will work way better than the lodge."

"We won't have to be in disguise so much," she nodded. "I'll call now."

"Let me do it, it will be me who'll have to meet with them anyway."

"You need to hurry up, Carm, get ready," Allie said. "You haven't packed all your stuff yet."

"Alright." She pushed the tablet toward me. "Bossy."

She caught me in the basement before they left.

"Did you talk to the proprietor?"

"She was a little surprised we wanted it so quickly and they'll lease it for three months minimum. If we leave before, we'll lose money but that's okay. I'll take a look at it first though, I'm meeting her tomorrow at four."

"No problem with a cat?"

"We cover any damage he causes. It seems like a go."

"Allie's in the shower, I need to talk for a second." She sat down and bumped the tips of her fingers together with a frown. "If anything happens to me, promise you'll take care of her," she said finally.

"Nothing's going to happen to you."

She glanced at me, her face tense.

"She believes she's going to lose me, even you must feel it from her."

"Quite strongly. I didn't think you knew."

"She tries to hide it, but even if she could, it's obvious in her actions. Her intuition isn't perfect but it's pretty close, and the only way she's going to lose me is if something bad happens. We could be taking a huge risk getting close to Hadden."

"If you're having second thoughts-"

"I'm not," she interrupted. "I just want you to promise you'll look after her. You're the same temperament as me, you'll have to pick up the slack."

I didn't really know what she meant at the time but nodded and turned away.

"Keep your phones on you at all times. Allie's the closest I've got to family, I'll always be here for her."

I vetoed the idea of something disastrous happening to any of us; luck had been on our side since my first vision of the spider and we would be taking every precaution possible. It was what I had to stay on top of, not allowing any part of this to spin out of control. Carmel's words produced a minor creeping sensation though, which hung around long after they'd left that afternoon.

I didn't like being in the house alone again; I'd have been happier if they'd left the cat with me. Less than two weeks here and they'd ruined me, I might never be satisfied with loneliness again.

I woke the next morning to find myself clutching Carmel's robe, which somehow I'd managed not to give back. I defiantly left it out of my suitcases when I packed.

Chapter Six

Colorado

After picking up the new licenses in the city, I changed out of Laura's conservative clothing and into a sheath dress, Walter Steiger heels, and Gucci wool coat. I fixed my wig into a loose bun and corrected my make-up for a more classy appearance. This was not so much for the benefit of travelling, but for the meeting at the other end with the proprietor of the house. There were advantages to giving the impression I had little interest in saving money.

At JFK I boarded my plane with more sway than usual in my hips and my nose far higher in the air - the outright opposite of how I felt. Planes were not a comfortable place to be; they made me feel cornered, like a deer in headlights. Only ever taking extremely short flights between the north eastern cities, the five and a half hour flight to Colorado was the longest I'd endured.

However, I survived, and, staying in character, exited the airport and rented a charcoal BMW X6.

The Hadden campuses were located on the northern end of a town called Briggs, nestled along the Front Range urban corridor foothills. It was a half hours drive from the closest airport and I purposely gave the Institute a wide berth and went directly to the southern end of town.

The area was heavily forested, the air crisp with the scent of pine. I had not visited many places like it before, it reminded me of what I'd seen in my visions of Savage Falls. The farthest I'd been from the east coast was my drive to Missouri two weeks earlier. Always intending to travel, the opportunity hadn't presented itself in what little life I'd lived. I figured it would be a necessity one day, when my past caught up with me. Rushing out to meet it in this manner, stalking my oppressors as if I were a worthy opponent, was a strange, unclassifiable sensation.

Carmel had struck the jackpot finding the house; a ten minute drive from town, it sat on the edge of Isadora \- a hundred and fifty acres of clear, natural lake. I pulled over beside it, removed my wig and extra skin and re-touched my make-up.

The agent, a woman in her fifties, met me at the gate to show me around. She accepted my tale about hoping to get some writing done here and didn't nose further when I said my cousins would be arriving tomorrow for a long-overdue reunion vacation. She only seemed keen to make some revenue on it.

The house was a two-story, ultra-modern building with a double garage and an incredible view across the water to the Rocky Mountains on its western side. Minimalist style, its home-factor was low, furnishings stylish but sparse. The price was sky-high but, looking around, it was worth every penny. The privacy, view, and presence of a separate guest house were what closed the deal for me and I signed the lease papers quickly.

Clearly the owner spent little time here, but the idea of living even short-term in a house privately owned by someone else was worrisome and, once the agent sped off in her Corvette, I spent a considerable length of time going through it with a stealth camera lens finder. When I was satisfied there were no hidden cameras, I put my own in place - motion sensitive Dropcams at each entrance to the house and guest house, which could be activated and accessed from any of my devices. Darkness had fallen by the time I unpacked, set up my computers and could label myself comfortable. I'd wait till tomorrow to get my bearings and do a proper drive-by of the Hospital and Institute.

The night brought with it an interesting discovery. Belen Abreu had been reported officially missing, and although I'd expected it eventually, there was no stopping the small surge of panic it bore.

I clicked a video link and, in lightly accented English, a male anchor told me, "Fans reacted with alarm today when the nation learned authorities are searching for information on the whereabouts of actress Belen Abreu. A press release early this morning revealed the 25 year old starlet, well-loved for her portrayal of Mia Vincente in Capas ocultas, has been missing since October 23rd. Reports say she was on a break in Montana when she left her late mothers house for an impromptu road trip; family and friends have been unable to reach her since. There is concern for her safety and police are treating her disappearance as suspicious. US officials will be collaborating with Policia Federal to unravel the mystery and we will keep the public up to date of any developments. In the meantime, a hotline has been set up for anyone who thinks they may have relevant information."

The picture of Carmel in the top left corner enlarged and two numbers flashed beneath it; one US code, one Mexican. I stopped the feed. I searched a few sites for more, relieved to find nothing about a body or her being wanted for criminal activity. But while my verbal Spanish was remedial, my written Spanish was non-existent so I could only rely on English reports. The timing of the news had me apprehensive, wondering if the bad thing to happen would be Carmel getting arrested or otherwise detained. But we had prepared for this, everything was in order, she had the right identification. I checked my clock, 10.44pm, and decided a text to let her know wouldn't be inappropriate. She rang back straight away.

I answered with, "Is everything okay?"

"Uh-huh," Carmel's voice came across unaffected, "we're back in Missouri, I have you on speaker."

"Hi, Bea," Allie sang out. "The police are after Belen?"

"Yes, but there's nothing about suspecting you of a crime, it seems more like they think she's in trouble, abducted or murdered or something. It's only been three weeks since you left Savage Falls."

"I expect Hamish contacted my father, he would have freaked and called the police. If Hamish hadn't already."

"They know you left for a road trip, that's pretty much all I could get from English reports."

"They'll know I left with Lark, and they'll have her picture from the flyers."

"Will they search the house and property?" Allie sounded worried.

"If they haven't, they will."

"We knew it would happen eventually," Carmel commented. "Don't let it make you nervous."

"We've done everything right, she looks completely different with all the piercings and make-up. The second-hand clothes and cheap accessories were a nice touch, if anyone thought you resembled an actress, they'd dismiss the idea when the noticed your bargain-bin shades."

"I know, right?" I could hear the smirk in her voice. "Is it okay if I check into it thoroughly?"

"Yes, there might be more detail on a Spanish language site. And be vigilant."

"Okay, so that's it?" Allie asked. "We don't need to be worried?"

"We've got more important things to concentrate on. How's the house?"

"The place is breath-taking, and I'm confident there are no nanny cams. You did good, Carmel."

"Have you seen the Institute yet?"

"No, Allie. I skirted around it today. I'll take a look tomorrow. You should give the northern end of town a wide berth too and keep yourselves adequately covered, since you won't have your alternate ID's till you get here."

"Got it. So, as long as we keep schedule, we'll be there after dark tomorrow night."

"All good, be safe."

I pressed end, and suddenly I was very tired, calmed by Carmel's indifference.

My sleep was not marred by the absence of my own domains' protection, it was deep and uninterrupted and on Thursday, I dressed as a conservative Laura.

The Hadden Hospital and Institute together stretched over an approximate five square mile area, with roads running between them, and plenty of traffic, both on foot and vehicles of all kinds; cars, bicycles, e-scooters. Someone sitting behind their wheel for long stretches didn't stick out like a sore thumb. I spent the day in the driver's seat, parked at various positions, observing the entrances and notable features of my surroundings. I'd purposely rented a car with tinted but not blacked windows and used an 800mm lens to see the people coming and going and make a note of visible CCTV cameras.

Between four and seven pm, over three dozen cars left through the southern gate, the gate pointed toward town, which was easily recognizable as the mostly frequently used. While the hospital clearly had a lot of different pedestrians - patients, friends and family of patients, and other non-employees - most of those I saw near the Institute held Hadden ID's around their necks or clipped to their waist. The cards were distinctive, a blue Hadden title and logo, photo and magnetic strip. I counted nine who wore what was clearly a security uniform and a few of the other faces were familiar from their website photos. There was no disappointment that I saw none I could link to illegal activity, I hadn't expected that, not on the first day anyway. I made a note to order a delivery to be made at some point, to see how easily a non-employee could get into the grounds and subsequently the main building.

When the light began to fade, I started the engine and drove south toward the central business district for food.

Briggs was a picturesque town, the buildings a concoction of historic and super modern, interspersed with patches of evergreens, grassy parks and playgrounds. Its stats indicated high employment and standard of living with way below average poverty and crime rates. My observation keen, I clocked every police car, every visible camera, and, as I ordered a vegetarian burger, every face crossing my path. I sat in the car and ate, watching passers-by, absorbing the overall atmosphere of the area and relaxed attitude of its inhabitants.

Satisfied for a first day on the scene, I considered going to the grocery store to stock the kitchen, but decided it was best left to Carmel; she knew what to buy better than me. A new sensation was building which defied my years of forced emotional seclusion; I was looking forward to their arrival.

The night was beautiful when I went out to greet them just before nine.

"You're earlier than I expected," I said, not doing a wonderful job of containing my smile.

"We were on the road at six this morning," Carmel explained, joining me at the back door. "Allie's been impatient, I was worried she might take off in the car by herself if I didn't haul ass."

The spider let the cat out and he began to prowl the immediate area, sniffing. Carmel spent a moment to take in the surroundings. A thin sliver of yellow crescent moon hung low in the black sky.

"Remind you of home?" I wondered to her. "Well, one of them."

"It's very scenic."

"I love it," Allie said. "A lake. A lake!" She danced gleefully around then pulled me into an unexpected hug. "I missed you."

Surprised I wasn't the only one happy to be reunited after such a brief stint, I chuckled, pushed her back and began unloading equipment.

"Not bad, huh?" Carmel commented in the house. "Which room have you taken, Bea?"

"I've put cameras on all the outside doors and I've set up my equipment in here," I said entering the living area, "but I'm sleeping in the guest house."

"What?" she asked, startled. "You always shove yourself aside. How is that fair?"

"I don't know what you mean, the guest house is perfect and I don't want to listen to your sex sounds at night."

"She does though," the spider came in, weighed down by a bag with a drone, "she just doesn't want us to know. She'll skulk outside the window with her hand down her pants."

"Jesus, Allie! We're here for a reason other than to knock each other."

"Bea knows I'm only teasing."

"Hmm," I grunted. Like I couldn't get a better view of their intimacy from the safety of my own bed if I so desired. "It has its own bathroom but no kitchen," I said to swerve away from sex.

"You'll be eating with us anyway." Carmel didn't give me a chance to protest.

"I haven't bought any groceries yet, just a bunch of fruit."

"I'll do it first thing in the morning after my run. You'll keep up with my training lessons here, right?"

"We'll practice, no bag though."

"Good," Allie said. "I like watching your fights, they're kind of sexy."

"You have a one-track mind," I rolled my eyes.

The car emptied and living area overflowing, I handed over their Fleur and Helena ID's, Allie breaking into another fit of giggles at the photos, and spent a couple of hours going over my day, sharing the observations and photos I'd taken.

"You didn't see anything of Liam Gould?"

"No such luck. I was happy with what I got though. No one paid any attention to me in the car and I noticed a few other people dotted around doing the same. Laptops in front of them, sneaking a cigarette or eating lunch. The day went well."

"Yes," Allie agreed, still clicking through the digital photos and stopping on a close up of a Hadden ID tag. "How far away were you when you took this?"

"About two hundred feet."

"That's impressive."

"So," Carmel began, "I'm thinking this time between four and seven in the arvo is when we have the chance to see the bulk of employees leaving, but we should be looking at all gates not just the main one."

"We do that tomorrow then? You two take the eastern gate and I'll take north," I said and Allie nodded.

"We'll keep an eye on things to see how much activity there is during the weekend then all of us could watch the main gate on Monday, same time. If there's as many people as you say, all eyes will be necessary."

"You'll need to be Fleur and Helena whenever you're in public. It's the safest way this is going to work."

"Sounds good." Carmel yawned. "Sorry, guys, I have to go to bed, I'm exhausted."

"So am I," I said and gathered my phone and keys. I had a small, furry shadow; Guido jumped off the sofa and followed me to the door. I hesitated and looked down at him.

"What's up, puss?"

"He wants to stay with you tonight," Allie called.

He stared up at me with questioning eyes. "Maybe he's getting sick of your sex sounds too," I mumbled.

He settled on top of the duvet like he'd always been there. To have another creature in bed with me was strange; at least he wasn't a snorer, his light purrs lulling me to sleep quicker than usual. It became his habit to follow me to bed every night from then; I had a feeling he didn't like leaving me lonely. It was nice, his soft presence, and I wondered how long I'd last before getting a cat of my own when all this was over.

On Friday we followed the plan, watching the north and east gates, taking shots of faces and number plates passing through. The weekend was similarly spent, traffic far less numerous. Dinners were pushed back to a later time and in the evenings we went through each other's photos. As early as Saturday I felt the frustration from Allie, it built steadily with every unfamiliar, ordinary face she clicked through. I knew this would happen, I attempted to talk her out of it, but it worked the other way. Her impatience was infecting me. So I waited for a stretch alone with Carmel, knowing even one decent conversation with her would calm and reassure.

I was in bed by eleven on Sunday night, an ache travelling up from my neck to the back of my head.

I didn't think I'd fallen asleep; drowsily I got up and made my way to the house to retrieve some Tylenol. Carmel and Allie were still up, in the living room, and they stared at me when I wandered through toward the kitchen.

I stopped and observed. They looked remarkably like they'd been talking about me, guilty and a little expectant.

"Something wrong?"

"Not really," Carmel approached. "We've been discussing something."

"Yes?" I glanced at Allie; her expression hard to read.

Carmel stepped closer, her eyes demanding I hold their gaze.

"Stay in here tonight," she said softly. "With us. We want you to."

I couldn't say anything, couldn't tear my eyes from hers, lost in their depth. Warm hands slid around my waist from behind, slipped underneath my shirt.

"Oh my God," I breathed. Allie pressed herself against my back, lips brushing my shoulder.

"You're so pretty," she whispered, "so, so pretty."

I couldn't move, the sensations Allie's touch sent through me were electrifying. My breathing became heavy and Carmel moved closer, her lips met mine softly, I thought I was going to faint.

I was being seduced. By two beautiful women.

"You want this, don't you?" Carmel's breath smelled like cherries. I didn't answer, just pushed my mouth back against her heavenly lips. How long I had wanted to do this; and to know I wasn't betraying Allie. I could feel her approval as her hands roamed my body, I could feel her excitement. I could feel Carmel's, our tongues curling together. They wanted me, they both wanted me. With an iron will I could not have stopped what was about to happen.

It stopped anyway. The dream ended with a sharp awakening, sweat beaded my upper lip and my groin was wet. I sat up and stared at Guido nestled against my feet.

"Jesus," I groaned and settled back to the pillow.

It was the most vivid dream I'd ever had, more powerful than my strongest of visions. This had never happened before. I was losing it; I needed these feelings out of my head. Allie would know, they would both know.

I slept late and breakfast was uncomfortably quiet on Monday. I told Carmel we'd skip training today; I wanted to get to Hadden, supposing a different time might render different results. Silence fell while I ate my cereal and when I looked up, Allie stared at me from across the counter, a tiny smile in her eyes.

"Did you have a good sleep?" she asked pointedly and I frowned at her.

She knew. My first thought was that she was picking up on my feelings, but then it hit me. It was the look on her face, secretive and triumphant. She had planted the dream, there was no doubt. There might have been embarrassment if I didn't feel such a powerful surge of indignation.

I got up and clanked my bowl angrily in the washer, ignoring Carmel when she turned from the sink in surprise. Grabbing my bag and keys, I stopped at Allie's side before I left.

"Do you think that was clever?" I said in a low voice then raised my volume as I walked out. "I'm going to the east gate, I'll be back at eight. You two do whatever you want."

I didn't wait for a reply. I felt violated; she'd crossed a line that shouldn't be crossed. Getting in anyone's head in such a way was unacceptable; but she was supposed to be my friend. It was a unique form of betrayal.

I only made it a few yards from the driveway when my vision blurred. I pulled to the side of the empty road immediately and leaned against the headrest.

Abruptly, I was back in the kitchen, witnessing a confrontation between the spider and pretender.

"What was that about?" Carmel asked and Allie turned away with a smirk. She caught her arm and held her in place. "Tell me now. What was that? Bea doesn't lose her temper, what did you do?"

"I gave her a taste of what it's like to be with you," she shrugged. "She really likes you."

Carmel stared at her, shocked.

"You gave her a dream, didn't you? Why?"

"I was trying to be nice."

"Like hell you were. You were toying. What is wrong with you?" In a few moments her face changed. "You want her."

"Yes. Watching you two fight gets me so hot."

"You're that bored with what we have?"

"Don't you put this on me. I don't even know how you can be so oblivious to how much she likes you. I knew this would happen. I knew it! There's no way I'm allowing it, not without me involved. You're mine."

"Is that what you want? Both of us? You want to have your cake and eat it too?"

"Yes. You should be grateful I'm not strangling her."

"Grow the fuck up, Lark."

Allie's expression altered markedly when her old name was used with such bite; surprise then anger equal to that of Carmel's. I didn't like where this was going. Now was not the time for us to fall apart because of something so puerile. But just when I thought the situation would blow up, their furious faces lunged together and they began tearing at each other's clothes and screwing right on the kitchen floor.

Their stripped bodies joined together with such ferocity; it was the most intoxicating coupling I could have imagined. My jaw drooped and my breathing became labored.

I didn't blink it away. I watched, I watched the whole thing. Given the context of the situation, I felt a part of their appetite. And there, in the driver's seat, on the side of the road, engine still running, I pushed my hand inside my pants and brought myself to orgasm while witnessing theirs. So easily. So quickly. The release was epic. It was right, wrong, unbelievably good, and afterward, I was that much more human.

Manners be damned. I didn't care if they knew; if they were allowed to use me that way, I'd use them back.

I stared at the slick fingers of my right hand in fascination, then doused it with hand sanitizer. I peered around the deserted road and into the tree line beside me, sight not penetrating the thick darkness far. If any loiterers had witnessed the frenzied spiel, I couldn't see them. A need for privacy and solitude overtook me and I switched my phone onto airplane mode before I made my way to the eastern gate of Hadden.

The dream and images of their lovemaking continued to produce a trying blend of both animosity and arousal well into the afternoon, even as I attempted to keep my attention on the people passing through the gate. There was no guilt, more a concern that after only one time, I might become some kind of compulsive voyeur and masturbator. Just after two pm, a distraction successfully reclaimed my interest.

Liam Gould. He arrived in a distinctive, white Bentley SUV, was granted entry through the gate and disappeared into an underground car park. The several shots I snapped in what little time I had were not from the best angles, but there was no doubt it was him. My flesh crawled, pins and needles pierced my skin; an extreme reaction that yet again I couldn't explain.

*

When I got back to the house at nine that evening, Carmel's anxious face met me at the front door.

"You're an hour late," she tapped her watch. "The plan was to check in if we were going to be late and you've had your phone off. We were driving around looking for you. What are we supposed to think if-"

"What is it?" Allie interrupted her, recognizing something in my eyes.

"Give me a few minutes," I said, and headed for the guest house. I peeled my nose and wig off and gave my face a rub with a cloth then carried my bag back to the main house and joined them in the living room.

I went to the table, plugged my camera into the laptop.

"Liam Gould went in through the east gate at two this afternoon." I watched Allie's eyes widen in anticipation. "I waited and when he left two hours later, I followed him to another building." I brought up a map of Briggs on the screen. "Here, Boltbridge Road. Unmarked. The area holds a combination of commercial and residential properties. The building is big, but the parking lot is outdoors and mesh fencing enables a decent view. It only had eight cars in it, and it's not guarded like the Institute."

"Which means it's probably nothing," Allie said with an air of disappointment.

"The gate isn't guarded. There is security inside the building though. I watched the place from a safe distance for four hours. I saw seven people, including Gould, go in or out, one wore a uniform."

"You've got pictures?"

"Yes." I opened the photo window. "Two of them had visible Hadden ID's."

Allie sat down and studied the pictures thoughtfully. "It's definitely him," she said, her face pale. "But I don't recognize the others."

"I followed him when he left at six thirty. To a newly expanded subdivision at the very northern tip of town," I pointed to Plimmerton Street on the map. "It's a ten minute drive from Hadden, twelve minute from Briggs CBD. It's residential, it's where he lives."

"Nice one, Bea," Carmel said, her voice not quite its normal chipper self.

"I thought so too. I'm shattered though." I hesitated. "Gould is... Creepy. That feeling we had only got worse seeing him in person."

"I need to see him," Allie said determinately.

"Not tonight." Carmel's voice was non-negotiable. "He's probably home for the night now and Bea needs rest. We'll all go together tomorrow."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Absolutely."

"But I-" The spider attempted to protest.

"Go for a walk, Allie," Carmel said flatly and I glanced at her in surprise.

"I don't want to."

"I'm not asking. Go," she repeated, steelier this time.

She stared in alarm for a few moments then pulled her coat from the back of a chair and left through the back door.

"Wow," I commented, a little shocked myself. "Not something I've seen before."

She sat down on a bar stool and stared at the counter. "I'm sorry for what she did," she said quietly.

"It doesn't matter."

"Of course it does. That was cruel, she's-"

"Carmel," I cut her off, "I appreciate the concern, but I don't want to talk about it. I'm tired and there are bigger things to worry about."

"Okay."

While her face was full of anxiety when I arrived, now I noticed she looked plain awful, drained of her usual spark. It was because of Allie, and I understood then what she meant by deficiency of emotion. She believed Allie needed her; loyalty was different matter. Her reaction had been delayed but it was there now - pain; the person she loved had told her plainly she wanted someone else. There was something else there too; it didn't surprise her, she'd only been foolish to think it could be different.

Forget resentment; that night, I truly disliked the spider.

"It isn't your job to apologize for her rubbish. She doesn't deserve you," I said quickly and left the room before she could respond. I rushed away because I was frightened she would bring up what Allie had blurted about my feelings; not a subject I was eager to admit to myself, let alone her.

I spent most of the night lying awake and wishing I could have said something else. But no matter what angle I came at it from, nothing was going to help. What Allie did to me didn't compare to what she'd done to Carmel.

I rose at six and was surprised to find Allie already sitting at the table, hands wrapped around a mug of coffee, eyes tired and red-rimmed.

Way off really caring that morning, my, "What's wrong?" was weak.

"She slept in a separate room. I thought we were okay yesterday, after... But I woke up in the night and she was gone. I came looking and found her in there, like she couldn't stand to be in the same bed as me." Her voice held defeat.

"I don't blame her," I responded without pause. I couldn't help it, I was bitter and privately satisfied to see her miserable. "This surprises you, Allie?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "I'm sorry for the dream."

"It doesn't matter how often you apologize if you keep making these mistakes. It was an inexcusable invasion. Not to mention totally pointless."

She nodded and her eyes welled up. "Do you think she'll leave me?"

"She's not that type of person. But you need to sort yourself out; it's not your abilities that makes you dangerous, it's your naivety. Carmel's right, you need to grow up."

"What if I can't?"

"Then you'll keep hurting her over and over, and Carmel being Carmel, she'll probably take it. Is that what you want?"

She shook her head, eyes streaming and mouth firmly shut.

"Would you prefer it if she did leave you?"

"I can't believe you're asking me that."

"You'll learn," I yielded, softening my voice. "You haven't had time yet. I will always be here for you, no matter what."

The incident in the car yesterday a million miles from my mind, I took her hand and squeezed it. It was what Carmel wanted, what I'd promised her. Never mind personal drawbacks, I wasn't about to break a promise and at that point I felt like the only one who could keep things levelled out.

"Thank you," she managed to rasp. While she had no trouble blabbing to Carmel about my feelings, she apparently didn't want to confront me about them, for which I was glad.

"We should stay focused on our goal. When Carmel gets up, we'll go see this new building. Try to exercise a little patience, half your problem is you get frustrated too easily."

"We're just taking one car today?" If I couldn't feel it from her, I could hear it in her voice; she was anxious about all of us being in the same car. It didn't surprise me, I doubted it would work either.

"Depends on what kind of mood Carmel's in, I guess." Not that Carmel got moody, but this was a delicate situation.

She wiped her eyes and nodded again. "I'm going to make her breakfast. Do you want some?"

"No, just coffee."

When Carmel finally wandered into the kitchen half an hour later, I admit I was reasonably edgy.

She made a mellow beeline toward me sitting at the table while Allie turned from the stove. I was about to attempt a sentence when she shocked me by bending down and kissing me full on the lips.

"Morning, my love," she said sleepily. Then stood back and observed my widened eyes, glanced at Allie whose jaw was dropped to the floor. "Oh. Sorry, wrong person." She shook her tousled head. "So confusing."

She went to Allie and did the same then sat across from me at the table, sucked on her vaporizer casually and picked up the tablet.

"Okay," Allie nodded slowly. "I completely deserved that."

"Yes, you did, nasty little witch." She raised her face to mine with a brazen wink, all the spark back in her eyes.

How she pulled off the dicey stunt with such repose and without Allie detonating was hard for me to comprehend, but the surface tension slipped from the room and I burst out laughing.

"Grrr!" Allie pressed her fingers into her shoulders with a grin. "Are you hungry?"

"Starving."

Underlying tension was a different story; Carmel was and always would be, a great pretender.

Chapter Seven

Sean Horvath

She'd set the bar for a laid-back day, God knows how but she had; there didn't seem any point in taking separate vehicles, it would be easier if we could communicate freely. We left in the Lexus just after nine and I directed Carmel first to Liam Gould's residence, and when there was no sign of his car or life there, to the building on Boltbridge Road, with a brief drive-by of Hadden.

Carmel parked several buildings down, close enough to get a decent view, and, with the Director's Bentley already in the parking lot, we settled in to watch the entrance gate.

There wasn't much talk - whatever her vices, Allie was rather quiet today. She fiddled with a laptop in the backseat with none of her usual questions or complaints. Without fail, she chose the backseat if the three of us were together; it was the corner spot method, she wanted to have the best vantage point not just outside the car, but inside as well. It didn't bother me, I liked having Carmel's calmness beside me. There was no denying how nice it was, her mere presence, her smell, her voice, her ease. But I could still feel her tongue sliding against mine in Allie's dream. I cleared my mind of the touch of her lips, blanked out the image of her cheeky smile at the table.

"Gould doesn't look very happy in these photos, does he?" Allie commented.

"He looks stressed and angry," I agreed. "You don't find the security uniform familiar, do you?"

"No. The guards who handled me wore black coveralls, and I don't remember their faces. I might if I saw one but... I really don't know." She sounded angry with herself.

"We'll get there, Allie," the pretender commented lightly.

We only saw three people leave and one enter the building, all men in their thirties, one I recognized from yesterday. I took shots of their faces and number plates.

I nodded off against the headrest for almost an hour between one and two. I didn't blame myself, it was an agonizingly slow day and my sleep had been rudely upset the past two nights. Quietly in the background a talk radio host took callers driveling about tax reform and gun control issues being debated for Colorado's General Assembly. Having Allie napping behind me and Carmel blowing an occasional gust of heady vanilla vapor my way, didn't help. I woke to find her absent from my side, the tablet abandoned on the center console. I peered around in alarm, Allie, awake, sat up in the backseat, watching through the rear windscreen. When I followed her line of sight I saw Carmel across the street a few houses down, standing with a Latino man at his mailbox.

I muted the radio and asked Allie, "What's she doing?"

"Don't know. Just talking, I think."

They gossiped casually and shared a giggle. Too far away to hear properly, I could only ascertain they spoke in Spanish. Even as Helena, her charm refused to elude her; the man smiled and gestured unconcernedly as he talked. The first weird thought was that it looked remarkably like she was chatting him up and possibly trying to make Allie jealous. The second weird thought, I was a little jealous.

He offered her a puff from the roll-your-own cigarette hanging from his fingers and she accepted, took a large lungful, and handed it back. They exchanged a few more words before he headed back into his house with a last salute and Carmel returned to the car.

She clicked the door softly shut and turned to us, the faint odor of cannabis clinging to her shirt.

"Gabriel," she said with a smile, not giving me a chance to scold her about the joint. "He's lived here for three years, said that building was unused till last year, when the Hadden people started moving a bunch of equipment into it."

"What kind of equipment?" Allie asked.

"He didn't know, said it was all boxed. It's quiet, not many people going in or out, but there's a bit more traffic in the evening and during the weekend. He said they all look pretty shifty but he never trusts anyone in a suit."

"How late in the evening?"

"I figure he meant after dark."

"Did he ask why you wanted to know?"

"Backstories aren't necessary for people like that, Bea," Carmel chuckled. "I was making conversation."

"You're actually enjoying this, aren't you? Anything else?"

"He's single and wants to buy me dinner," she said with a smirk.

"I fall asleep for five minutes and..." Allie trailed away. "What did you say?" she asked fiercely.

"I told him I'm in love with a bruja pequeño malo," she grinned and Allie smacked her arm. "If I change my mind though..." She held out a scrap of paper with a number scribbled on it and Allie snatched it from her.

"Helena hasn't turned out as off-putting as I intended. One of these day's she'll stray, Fleur."

"Don't you start too," Allie huffed and flopped back against her seat. "God forbid I set one foot wrong again."

"There are a lot of people, Allie," Carmel began priggishly, "who label themselves, with affection, as players; as if it's something to be proud of. I prefer the less sugar-coated term - tramp. And if you turn out to be one then you're right down in the same category as Cold Lips."

Not knowing what she meant by 'cold lips', even to me, the delivery was harsh. I frowned at her sideways and braced myself for Allie's response, but she reached around the front seat and wrapped an arm across Carmel's chest lovingly.

"You're talking about Julie," she said with delight.

"I'm talking about half the world's population."

"And you're so much better than that, aren't you?"

"Damn right. Why would I want to be with a person who'll fuck anyone as long as they're the right gender? My self-esteem isn't that low."

I didn't appreciate being referenced as 'anyone' but dismissed getting stuck in the middle of this one and was secretly happy Carmel wasn't letting the indiscretion slide so easily. I wasn't supposed to know about Allie's little confession anyway; it made me wonder how many other women she might have expressed interest in. And what was wrong with her. If I were with Carmel... I halted the thought with a sharp reprimand.

"Gabriel, on the other hand," she continued with nonchalance, "he seems like he'd be a loyal partner. Give me that number back."

"Stop being so passive aggressive!" Allie shrieked and containing my laugh was too much to ask.

She was getting a bit devilish, but when I glanced at Allie's expression, she leaned against the driver's seat, eyes shut, arm still lingering around a smiling Carmel.

"I'm not a tramp," she stated quietly.

"That's settled then," I said with relief and checked the time; two pm. "We're breaking for lunch."

"Mm. We've been parked in the same spot for too long." Carmel started the engine.

It wasn't a break, it was a three hour interlude. We went home and Carmel made a sun-dried tomato pasta salad. The news about there being more visitors at night had steered a tacit concession; if we took a proper break now we'd be better equipped to pay attention later. My plan was to return in a separate car, not wanting to subject myself to any more of their tension and the charcoal color of the rental a superior choice for night. But it didn't work out; at five pm I found them bundling into the car with me again. I didn't argue, assuming they wanted to delay spending time alone until the strain had fully disintegrated.

If they kicked off again I would respectfully insist they shut up.

Gould's car still sat in the same spot beyond the fence when I pulled up and parked further west on Boltbridge Road. The evening was gloomy, thick grey clouds threatened rain, and darkness closed in on us quickly. The night was a black one but the area around the entrance was well illuminated by night and streetlights. One person left at six and another arrived at six forty five; to Allie's immense frustration, both were faces I'd taken pictures of the day before. Yet I could feel something building in her, more than anxiety, a combination of fear and resolution. It worried me because I didn't know what it meant. When I tried to get her talking she remained stubbornly off topic and had fallen into complete silence by seven thirty. It was clear she was impatient to get her own glimpse of Liam Gould, but besides that, I was clueless.

"What thoughts have you had about the flyer number?" Carmel asked.

It was hard to endure these kinds of situations without thinking it was pointless and looking ahead to other possibilities. It didn't seem like a bad time to throw ideas around.

"A flyer like that probably gets a few phony and crank calls. If anyone even answers the other end they're not likely to take the caller seriously. But we have something that will make them respond."

"Allie."

"We can send them a picture, taken at a distance without her knowledge, but easily recognizable. Demand a reward before we tell them where it was taken."

"Where was it taken?"

"Montana might be the best place. One of the cities. It's the last state she was in, they probably expect her to still be there. A place we can watch from a safe distance, see who responds, snap a few pictures, maybe follow them."

"They'll know she's with me, they'll know she's long gone from Montana. They're more likely to be looking in Mexico."

"Mm, that's true." Where we eventually chose to carry out the plan didn't matter much.

A bicycle whizzed past us on the other side of the road and rode straight through the entrance to the buildings parking lot. I raised my camera and adjusted the focus.

He chained the speed bike up at a railing and took his helmet off, headphones plugged in his ears and scruffy, dark hair. He wore grey chinos and a plain, white dress shirt under his black windbreaker.

"This isn't one of the ones I saw yesterday," I commented and heard Allie straighten in the backseat and scrabble for the binoculars.

He disappeared inside the building before I could get a decent shot of his face. "Damn."

In silence, we watched, and the same male reappeared after only fifteen minutes, unlocking and rummaging with his bag. I raised the camera again and took several shots of him as he slung his pack over his shoulders, plugged his ear buds in and walked his bike to the gate.

"I know that man," Allie whispered. It was the first time she'd spoken in a while and I felt it from her immediately, even without the seriousness in her tone and words. Fury. It gave me pause and I turned to look at her, as did Carmel.

She had binoculars over her eyes, but when she took them away, her expression, through the heavy make-up, confirmed what was vibrating from her. It read hatred and stunned me. Although I'd fully experienced my own anger, even on her behalf, I'd never felt it like this from her. There was no rage in her memories from being a prisoner, just terror.

"Where do you know him from?" I asked, but she didn't answer.

My stomach lurched when she gave a quick glance to our surroundings, dropped the binoculars beside her, opened the door and made her way to the rear of the car, bent low.

"Allie!" Carmel blurted. "Shit." She pushed her own door open.

The guy climbed on his bike and pedaled our way, oblivious.

I watched in the side-view mirror, transfixed, as he made it a few feet past the car before taking a hard tumble to the asphalt, his bike beside him. Allie went straight to him and grabbed at the back of his neck. When I got out of the driver's seat, my main concern was scanning the area for darkened windows where an onlooker might be lurking. Carmel bent over the unconscious man alongside the spider.

"What the hell, Allie?" I said as I approached with frayed nerves.

She didn't look at me, didn't answer, just grabbed a floppy arm under the shoulder.

"Help me," she demanded. "We have to get him into the car."

"We haven't planned this," I said, shocked she had the gall to go so totally off script.

"You didn't plan anything!" she hissed. "Help me."

She was right, I hadn't made any plan. I may have managed to suppress it or be distracted from it, but in truth, I was scared just being here. If we were found by the wrong people, there was a very real possibility I could end up back where I started. My goal was to try to keep this under control; a goal that, within two minutes, I'd lost all grasp on. Catching Carmel's eye was a no-go, she clutched under the other shoulder and they started dragging him to the backdoor of the BMW. They were taking too long, every second we remained in view on that street felt like an eternity.

"Goddammit." I opened a door and helped them pull him onto the backseat.

"Get the tranquilizer, Bea," Allie said, fiddling with the clip of his helmet. "Hurry up."

I stared at her wild eyes, wondering how she knew I had it in the car. Carmel carried the bike from the road and lifted it onto the ski rack like it was nothing. I shook my head and opened the trunk, retrieved the medical case, and held it out.

"You have to do it, I don't know how."

I filled one of the syringes and stared again at the crumpled man Allie hovered over. A million thoughts and questions ran through my mind; chiefly - This is incredibly stupid. What if he had a bad reaction to the drug? Carmel seized the needle from my motionless hand and administered the shot herself straight into a vein at the back of his hand. Confusion mixed with fear; I wondered why she knew how to do it so skilfully.

My eyes were drawn to the roof rack and I reached up to test if the bike was secure. It wasn't, but was lodged in such a way, it probably wouldn't fall off.

"Bea," Allie said and I snapped to. "Get in the car."

Carmel, already in the driver's seat, started the engine as I slammed the back door and climbed onto the passenger side. I turned in my seat and made a last plea to Allie.

"We shouldn't be doing this. We should stop, dump him on the side of the road. He'll be found, no one will be the wiser."

"That you're aware of, were there any cameras pointed in our direction when that happened?" she asked, ignoring my request while she attempted to pull the man's backpack from his slumped body.

"No, but-"

"We're taking him," she said loudly before I could point out how little it meant. "This man is going to feel every moment of what he did to me." I'd never heard such venom in her voice.

No one spoke with that much venom without having a good reason, especially not the spider. I bent around and angled his head upward, studying him, finally catching on to the gaunt bone structure and thick eyebrows. It was him, the bearded man from Allie's testing sessions. He'd shaved clean and his hair was longer, straggling around his ears and shirt collar. And abruptly the feelings emanating from her made perfect sense; I accepted them, felt them mingling with my own.

"He'll have answers, Bea," Allie continued in a more rational tone. "We can't pass up the chance, we might never see one of them again."

"Okay," I boarded the moment. "The house, Carmel. And take it slow, that bike isn't secure." I nabbed the wallet Allie had pulled from his bag and stared at his Hadden ID. "Dr. Sean Horvath. It's him. We've actually got one."

Allie nodded her upper body, eyes intent, dark in the shadows, wild but clear.

Ten minutes later Carmel pulled into the garage and pressed the door remote, closing out the external world.

*

He wasn't as difficult to drag as I'd assumed, I suspected he was substantially underweight for a man of his height, but it didn't mean we were going to the effort of taking him up the stairs. We brought him to the downstairs office, a large carpeted room with only a desk and a few bookshelves, and I put to use my knowledge of how to tie handcuff knots on his wrists and ankles. Allie emptied his pockets and I spread the contents of his backpack on the desk.

His personal items were meagre, an iPhone XS, headphones, bike lock, set of keys, bottle of prescription painkillers and a wool scarf. Multiple cards, old and new, in his wallet indicated Sean Horvath was a genuine Joe. There was also a cashier's check for two thousand and ninety three dollars, personally signed by Liam Gould and dated today.

"Quite a specific sum. And large."

"It must be what he went there for," Carmel said and turned to study him. "How long do we have?"

"Maybe four or five hours before he regains consciousness."

She tore off her wig and scratched at the extra skin on her face. I began to unravel slightly then, staring at his vulnerable form, pressed uncomfortably into the carpet. I liked planning things, I liked following plans; this was outside my loci of well-being. I left the room and began pacing the living area. It was half past eight.

"The outlet in Ascot doesn't close till ten, I still have time to return the BMW. The sooner I do it, the better. I rented it with Laura, I was dressed as her and had to show my license. But I signed the house lease as Bea," I rambled while they watched. "That was a stroke of accidental genius."

"What are you on about?"

"The car. It has to go, we can't take the chance we were being watched or recorded. I have to take it back. Preferably right now."

"You're getting hung up on details," Carmel said while Allie wandered into the kitchen and I heard the refrigerator open.

"Maybe so, and that's a problem how? Am I the only one here concerned with keeping us safe?"

"The car will have a record of everywhere it's been, even if the GPS was disconnected. If it's found, the house will be too."

"Yeah, well, maybe it'll take longer this way. What have we got to lose?"

"Christ, let's just hope we weren't seen." She rubbed at her face again and stared at me for several seconds. "Okay, we'll do it your way, get the car out of here. I'll follow you in the Lexus and bring you back, renting another under the same name defeats the purpose of returning it."

"What about Allie?"

"She'll stay, keep an eye on him."

I glanced toward the kitchen, approached Carmel and whispered, "We can't leave her alone with him."

"Give me one good reason why not. She's well equipped to deal with him if he wakes up."

"What if... She does something stupid? I can take a cab back."

"The nut-sack tortured her, she can do whatever she wants. I'll bring you back, we'll only be an hour."

"Why are you so intent on leaving Allie with him?" I asked through narrowed eyes.

"Because I need a few minutes alone in the car to get my shit together, Bea! We have a tied up, unconscious man and he could be that way for hours. When we get back I'll be able to discuss, in a better capacity, what the fuck we're going to do with him. You want to take care of details, let's do that. You can't bring a taxi here with Laura."

The anxiety in her voice surprised and reassured; never mind how smoothly she'd reacted to the abduction, she was in a similar state to me. She was also right about Laura and the cab.

Allie, busying herself with a sandwich and engaged in an earnest heart-to-heart with an anxious looking Guido on the kitchen counter, seemed happy with the idea.

My nerves were raw as I drove to Ascot and returned the BMW while Carmel waited across the street, but I believe I successfully hid it, the male attendant professional but friendly. There were a few minutes of silence when I got in the Lexus and we journeyed out of Ascot.

"I'm not at all comfortable with what we're doing," I said finally. "Allie's put us all in danger."

"Could. Could have put us all in danger, don't jump to conclusions," she responded.

"We're supposed to plan and make decisions together. How are you okay with this?"

"I haven't been okay with anything since I found out who she was. But consider the alternative; we could have been watching those buildings for weeks and found nothing. The longer we watch, the greater the danger of being noticed and apprehended. You're right, it was stupid, but it was also brave, and I understand completely Allie's feelings."

"You think I don't understand her feelings?"

"A lot better than I do, but you were never going to be able to get your retribution without taking risks."

"I wanted to approach this with calculation."

"Calculation has its place, so does action." She glanced sideways at me. "We have one of them, Bea. This is a huge step toward what you wanted. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

I exhaled deeply and leaned my head back. The night was black beyond the streetlights as we made our way back to Briggs.

"It means something," I admitted, letting her words sink in. "It means a lot."

"I'll tell you why I'm more relaxed than I probably should be. Allie's calm, she's been calm since we got him in the car. That's a big deal, she has an uncanny knack for sensing if something important is afoot that involves her."

"Like when the chopper wreckage was found." I nodded to myself. "It's not much but it's marginally comforting. Guns. You and I need to arm ourselves when we get back, and keep watch for anyone approaching the house. I'll pack an emergency bag, just in case we have to get away on foot in a hurry."

"That's the spirit."

Back at the house, we found Allie slouching at the desk chair in the office, holding a coffee mug, staring at her tormentor.

"Everything okay?" she asked, not taking her eyes off him.

"Mm." Carmel went to the desk and studied the items on it again thoughtfully.

It was a pity he didn't have a laptop or a convenient pile of compromising files with him; I made a mind note to start building a profile while he was still unconscious. About to start a discussion on what to do next, the familiar sensation of a mild vision crept through me. The timing wasn't fantastic but, suspecting it might be something from Sean's past, I accepted it. I rested my hands on the desk to stay steady and stared ahead, the office replaced slowly by another, very different office.

I entered the vision smack in the middle of a conversation. Liam Gould sat behind a desk, piled with paperwork, another suited, grey-haired male opposite him.

"...if they've crossed the Mexican border." I caught the tail end of Gould's anxious sentence.

"You look tired Liam," the other man commented mildly. "Maybe it's time you retire."

"Am I getting help or not?" the Director asked impatiently.

"We cleaned up the shambles you caused in Montana," he responded monotonously while Gould folded his hands in front of him, tight-lipped. "That ridiculous thug you hired, but we didn't do it for you. I warned you what would happen if you didn't stop this lunacy, but you've dug yourself deeper every time I see you." His words were clearer than his face.

"This is not a run-of-the-mill subject, I can't stress that enough. Fred considers-"

"Keep your trap shut," the man growled. "You're not dealing with Farris anymore. You've lost not one but two people who could incriminate you, one of which people aren't going to forget so easy. That's all I need to know." He leaned back, his jacket falling open and I saw a badge clipped to his belt. He ran his eyes over the man opposite him disdainfully. "I've never liked you Dr. Gould. I hope you sink in shit along with that asshole who pulls your strings. He can hire any goons he wants, no one with sense will touch this. And you're seriously trying to prompt agency cooperation?" He laughed, a hollow, devil-may-care sound, shook his head and stood up. "Understand this, we're washing our hands of you, the entire debacle. You're on your own from here on."

He walked out without waiting for a response. He left the door open and Liam Gould's face like a slapped ass.

"Bea." Carmel's voice broke through and the fog cleared from my eyes. I still stood at the desk and focused on her questioning eyes.

"Sorry, what?"

"Did you just see something? Did you see something about him?" She glanced at the unconscious man.

"No. I zoned out." It didn't feel right but the lie was automatic, I needed time to analyze before telling them what I'd heard. It had been brief but the scene was loaded with unprocessed information.

Carmel didn't believe me; that was obvious. But maybe she let it go because she thought I'd seen something unrelated.

"I was asking what you can do with this phone. Are you able to unlock it?"

The type of phone had facial recognition biometrics and file-based encryption, there was no way. I opened my mouth to tell her it was sweet she thought I was that smart, but Allie beat me to it.

"Unnecessary," she said, stood from the chair and bent down to Sean Horvath. "Everything we need is right here." She touched an index finger to his temple.

"Can you see his memories while he's like that?"

"Not a single thing."

"Let's talk elsewhere," I suggested and headed to the living area.

"We can't just ask him," Carmel said, closing the door behind her.

"The thiopental might help, if not to get him talking at least to relax him enough for Allie to access something."

"Now you're easy with shooting him up?" Carmel cast me a strange look.

"You were right," I shrugged. "There are advantages to what we just did, taking him. One of the big things we have going for us is no one would have expected it. They've overestimated Allie's fear and underestimated her resolve."

"You've changed your tune," she said suspiciously.

Her attitude stood to reason. The vision of Gould had altered the way I perceived the situation, there was less doubt, higher investment. It had been a real-time view and verified that the Director hung by a thread, unable to procure authoritative help. Likewise crucial, he wasn't just blind to our presence in town, but utterly ignorant to the notion the spider had united with one of his less recent mistakes.

I'd been right from the start; he hadn't seen this coming at all.

"So that's it? We wait till he wakes up, use the thiopental and see what happens?" she asked, frowning.

"I've got a better idea," Allie said, sharing an intent stare with the sofa. "I can't draw any of his memories unless he's open to it but the drug won't help me get to them either."

"Why not?" I asked, taken unawares by her certainty.

"People close themselves off on a lot of different levels. There are parts he won't even admit to himself, and I think drugging him is redundant. He's not an irredeemable man, there's good inside him, I felt it."

"All this and you want us to let him go?"

"No," she snarled. "I'm saying I think I can fix him, just by making him feel my pain."

"You want to give him your memories?"

"I'd want to do it either way, but I think there's a high probability that he'll talk when I'm finished with him. He'll open up like a flower. Say, do, anything."

"Like a condensed, extreme form of Stockholm Syndrome," Carmel mused and shrugged at me. "If she's going to do it anyway, it's an intriguing possibility."

"He'll know who you are if you do it," I thought out loud.

"I'm sure it's not going to matter," she said.

"Punishment and persuasion in one hit. So, how would this work?"

"Simply," Allie said. "We keep tape over his mouth and I get inside his head. I don't know how long it'll take but I'm not stopping until he knows what he's done. He knows."

"And he has to be conscious?"

"Very." She added a grave, "And I'll have to offer him something in return."

"What?" Carmel frowned.

"Forgiveness," she said reflectively.

It was too easy, too clean. Way too much to hope for and I was already listing alternatives in my head for when it didn't work. We couldn't release him knowing who Allie was and how close we were getting. If it didn't work, Sean Horvath would have to die.

"In the meantime," I said, unplugging a laptop, "I'm going find a good spot for a camera directed at the driveway and road, so I can watch from in there." I gestured to the office.

"One second." Carmel stopped me with a hand on my arm. "What's up with you?"

I knew what she meant, and Allie turned at the words, staring at me, waiting.

"I saw something," I admitted.

"Of course you did," Carmel responded quickly. "Your pupils dilated; you saw Sean?"

"No. It was probably spurred by Sean but it wasn't of him, it was of Gould, real-time."

I explained in detail the conversation I'd heard and watched the tension in their faces ease and a twinkle enter Allie's eyes.

"It was probably the same office Sean had just collected his check from. That's how it works sometimes."

"Weren't you even going to tell us?"

"I was. It only just happened and I needed to sort through it. A lot's changed in only a couple of hours, we have more than I expected to get in two weeks. Sorry."

"It sounds like everything in Montana was covered up. Even Daniel Ruebeck."

"Sounds like it," I agreed. "You're not going to have a murder pinned on you."

"When he said 'two people', did he mean you and Allie, or me and Allie?"

"Definitely you and Allie. You're the one the public will want answers about."

"This is wonderful!" Allie exclaimed, grabbed me and planted a wet kiss on my cheek before twirling around the room. "It doesn't tell us much but it makes me feel better!"

"You weren't feeling bad."

"But now I feel great!" She stopped twirling and stomped toward the kitchen. "I'll have another sandwich."

"We good?" I asked Carmel.

"We're good," she said with a smile and I carried the laptop through to the office. I came out within seconds holding the phone. "Can you get rid of this? Wipe it off and take it into town, throw it in a trash can."

I placed the extra camera in one of the second story windows, approaching cars would be visible at least a minute before they got here, and carried my laptop into the office.

Sean Horvath had earned his medical degree at Ohio State, completed a one year internship at Bettany Medical Centre in Columbus, and moved on to complete a three year neurology residency at Hadden. If the outdated information on his Facebook page was accurate, he was currently training in a fellowship program there. He was an only child, with parents in Wisconsin. He had split with a long-term girlfriend two years ago and lived alone. No pets. The page hadn't been updated since last year, which could indicate active dissuasion from using it. Peering at the sum total of his life while he lay tied up several feet from me, I became depressed. He was all academia, but if I could be open about myself on social media, I'd amount to less than quarter what he did. His photo was definitely not included in Hadden employees though; bearded or shaved. I wondered how many others they kept hidden. When Allie wandered in with a sandwich, it was a relief. She smiled at me and crouched on her haunches next to Sean to eat and stare.

"He's too zonked to give a nightmare, or I'd do that," she commented.

"Aside from hungry and slightly evil, you're okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's a pretty big deal, meeting your own personal nightmare eye to eye."

"The tables are turned now though, aren't they," she said pensively and took a bite. "I'm looking forward to unloading."

"Do you really think you'll be able to offer him forgiveness?"

"We'll see."

It was safe to infer the bid would be an emotional one, while she was in his head, in which case, it would have to be bona fide.

"His life is all about his career," I said morosely.

"Like most of the people at Hadden."

"It's probably how he got suckered into doing this stuff, furthering himself."

"Don't feel sorry for him, Bea." She sat down on the carpet and folded her legs. "I know you didn't like what I did, you thought it was stupid. But it's your turn to trust me, I'm not going to hurt him except to make him feel what I did. If it works the way I think, he'll thank me for it."

"If it doesn't, he'll have to go. We can make it appear like a suicide."

"Have faith." She looked at me. "What would you have done if you'd seen the guard who took advantage of you outside that building?"

"Followed him home and shot him," I said. "At the right moment, of course. He wouldn't deserve the calculation of the scientists, he wouldn't have access or answers."

"If you could make him feel what you did, would you?"

"Yes." I paused and added, "Then I'd shoot him."

"And you think I'm the evil one," she giggled.

"Ugh, it's true, I do have anger." I placed my elbows on the desk and rubbed at my temples. I was embellishing anyway, I probably wouldn't just shoot him. "Should we try to see what Sean knows before you launch into it?"

"Waste of time, if you ask me. But you can try, if you want." She chewed. "I guess Gould thinks I'm in Mexico. Do you think the other guy knew about my abilities?"

"It didn't seem that way. It sounded like Gould wanted to tell him how important you were but couldn't. I can't be sure." I let the past few hours percolate properly. "We were right," I said with belated consternation. "We were right about him, we know him. God knows what he might have done to us in the past."

She turned a deaf ear to the negativity of the last sentence and mumbled, "Mm, it's good."

Chapter Eight

The Spider

At one thirty am, Sean began to show signs of movement and I summoned the others.

"Go put your face on," I whispered to Carmel and she slipped from the room.

He woke slowly, felt the restraints on his hands and feet before anything because he started struggling against them before he tried to look around properly. His brow ridge creased, his eyes squinted when he saw us; he began making sounds under the tape. He didn't stop fighting with the bindings.

"Calm down. If you get free I'm just going to shoot you." I crouched beside him and held my gun between my knees.

He stopped then, stared at me. His eyes were dark blue; intent, panicked and bewildered at once.

"Are you going to be quiet if I take that off for a minute?" I gestured toward his mouth. "So we can talk sensibly."

He nodded and I peeled it away. Allie sat in the desk chair, agitation bleeding from her.

"Where am I? I don't have any money," he said quickly when the tape was removed. "My family doesn't have any money."

"We don't want money," I responded and he looked ready to weep.

"Are you going to kill me?"

"If you make any sudden moves, it'd be my pleasure."

"What do you want?"

"What is that building?"

"What building?"

"Boltbridge Road. Are there human subjects in that building?"

His face fell, he frowned deeply.

"I went there to pick up a check, I was there for five minutes. I have no idea what you're talking about." He set his jaw, eyes directed at the carpet.

I shook my head, tore another piece of masking tape and moved closer.

"No, w-" he managed before it muffled out.

"You experimented illegally on a girl you called Aranea," I said concisely, standing back. His eyes widened and he stopped trying to make any noise. "You tortured her with electricity when she wouldn't do as you asked. We're confused about what you were trying to accomplish. You're obviously an intelligent man and a lot of things aren't adding up about this."

He didn't move, just stared at me. Sweat began to bead his forehead; he didn't like what he was hearing.

"Enough with this postponement," Allie said and wheeled the office chair toward him. He tore his eyes from me to her, he was scared. "Help me get him upright on this."

Carmel returned, he was alarmed to see a third person, perhaps wondering how many more were out there. He didn't try to kick or struggle as we put him in the chair. I guessed he'd been numbed by my words, he realized this wasn't simple now, this was serious, he had no control here. Allie studied him for a few moments in silence.

"You've done very bad things," she said quietly. "I'm going to open your eyes." She turned him toward the wall and quickly spread her hand around the back of his neck.

"Allie?" I asked after a minute. She didn't answer, her eyes closed in concentration and I leaned toward Carmel and whispered, "How do we know he's seeing what she wants?"

Carmel moved to the wall to peer at his face and I did the same. His mandibles were gritted, his eyes unfocused and beginning to water.

"He's seeing," she said. She touched Allie's hand. "She's okay too, she's just diverted. We need to wait."

"How long will they be like that?"

"Don't know. I'll bring a chair in for her."

She placed it behind Allie who didn't move and I sat on the carpet and leaned against the wall. Fifteen minutes later, both of us were getting jittery. It was going to be a long night. I played anxiously with the laptop and Carmel sat beside me.

"I didn't anticipate this," I whispered. "Thought I'd be in bed by now after another unproductive day."

"You're scared," she returned quietly.

"Aren't you?" She didn't have to answer, I knew she was. "I figure we could easily run his car into the lake with him in it. There are a few locations around here it could be done. Make it look like he fell asleep at the wheel. They wouldn't find anything incriminating in his system because we won't need to pump him full of drugs. Allie can put him out."

"You're awfully keen to kill him."

"I'm just brainstorming. Letting him go is a bad option."

"He hasn't seen any of our faces yet."

"He'll still be able to say three women abducted him, questioned him about human subjects, it's more than enough for us to need to leave. Without having got any real information."

"Mm, true. We could search his apartment," she suggested.

My reply was stalled by movement from Allie. She took her hand from Sean's neck and rubbed at it with her other, Carmel rose and went to her. Sean, still facing the wall, hung his head, his chest rising and falling with speed, but he didn't make a sound. I went to look at him while Allie led Carmel from the room. His eyes shut, he didn't respond when I tried to get his attention.

"Bea," Allie rasped from the doorway. "Come out for a bit."

"Are you okay?" I asked in the kitchen.

"I need coffee," she said and Carmel immediately went to the machine.

"Is he okay?"

"No, he's not okay. He's coming face to face with himself. Terror is fighting numbness."

"He's seeing it then?"

"He's seeing, he's feeling. But I'm not finished yet, I just need energy." After only fifteen minutes, she sounded weak and looked pale, more drained than I'd ever seen and that worried me.

"I could drive down to Alta, get you some Red Bull. Or do you want something to eat?"

"Red Bull might be good."

"I'll go," Carmel said, putting a coffee on the counter in front of Allie before she collected her keys and glided out the door. Allie sipped.

"Does he know who you are?"

"He suspects. His vulnerability increases by the second."

"Does it make you feel better? Unloading that way?"

"Do I look like I feel better? This is necessary, not enjoyable." She paused and glanced at me sharply. "And don't, don't say it's not worth it. Don't second-guess me again, it's annoying, Bea."

"Alright." My mouth curled upward at the words \- she was fine.

Carmel was back within a few minutes, holding several cans of energy drink. Allie left what remained of the coffee, drained an entire can in twenty seconds and returned to Sean. He hadn't moved, his head still dropped to his chest, eyes shut. She turned his chair slightly, but he didn't react.

Her wig had gone askew and when I indicated to her she removed it completely and clawed at the strips of skin on her face. I didn't protest, one warning was enough. His eyes were still closed anyway, and he seemed intent on keeping them that way. He was definitely conscious though, his chest heaved under his windbreaker and his fingers were interlocked tightly; it looked a lot like he was praying. She lowered herself onto the extra chair and resumed her position, hand at his neck.

"This is unbearable," I commented quietly and sat against the wall with the laptop again.

"Mm." Carmel watched in silence for a few moments then wandered from the room.

Allie and Sean maintained their bizarre positions, neither opening their eyes; it might have been comical under any other circumstances. I spent another half hour sitting there, watching and stewing, before I left to take a quick walk around the outside of the property. It was to stretch my legs and see what Carmel was doing, but mostly because I couldn't stand being still for so long. Not in this situation. Probably in the same state, Carmel cleaned her dismantled vaporizer obsessively at the kitchen counter. Guido, stretched on the floor, looked none too happy with the atmosphere either; I gave him a scratch.

I couldn't have been out of the room more than three minutes, and when I returned, Allie was lying awkwardly on the floor next to the chairs and Sean Horvath's eyes were wide with fear, looking at me then nudging his head toward her, collapsed near his bound ankles. He could easily have kicked her in that position. My heart-rate sky-rocketed in milliseconds and I knelt beside her and felt her pulse, keeping one eye on Sean.

"What did you do to her?" I demanded and ripped the tape from his mouth, gun at my side.

"Nothing," he said feebly. "I wouldn't do anything to her if I could."

"Allie," I nudged her shoulder again; she was out. "Why is she passed out?"

"She's spent. She'll be alright." He looked at her with eyes full of sorrow. "Get her somewhere comfortable."

"Carmel!" I yelled through the open door, forgetting appropriate name use. "Carmel, get in here!"

When she appeared in the doorway, she rushed to Allie's other side, held her head off the floor and pressed her fingers to her neck herself.

"What happened?!" I'd never heard her so utterly frantic.

"I think she's just drained. Let's get her out." I hooked an arm under her shoulder and we hoisted her up and pulled her out to the sofa in the living area. She was so light, it was shocking. Tears appeared in Carmel's eyes, she sat at one end and cradled her head in her lap.

"Allie," she sobbed, then glanced up angrily. "Would you shut that fucking door?"

Sean didn't even try to protest when I ripped another strip of masking tape and placed it across his mouth.

"Sit tight, we'll talk again in a bit," I said to his conquered eyes and shut the door behind me.

"You'll be okay," Carmel murmured while she stroked Allie's face. "I'm here. I'm always here."

"Are you alright?" I asked gently.

"Sorry I yelled. I panicked, I can't have anything happen to her."

"I shouldn't have left her alone with him."

"She'll be okay. It's like you said, she's tired; she needs to sleep it off."

It sounded like more of an attempt to convince herself than me. I knew she wouldn't leave her side till she woke up.

"I think it worked, Carmel," I said quietly. "You should have seen the way he looked at her."

She peered at me. "How?"

"Like he loved her. He didn't yell when I took his tape off, just told me to get her somewhere comfortable."

Another tear slipped from her eye and she kissed Allie's head tenderly. "My beautiful treasure."

It was an hour before Allie's eyes finally opened again and she stared at Carmel hovering above her.

"Hi," I heard Carmel say softly and I came in from the kitchen. After the vaguest hint of a smile, she reached up and tugged Carmel's face down, meeting her halfway with fraught, feverish kisses. Carmel gave in to it at first but eventually pulled free with a chuckle. "You're okay then. You little shithead, you scared me."

There was no suppressing my own smile.

"How are you feeling?" I asked and Allie sat up slowly. "Can I get you something to eat?"

It was 3.30 am, but time felt irrelevant. I'd been making BLT sandwiches for when she woke, not wanting the stress of waiting for her slumber to break, or of watching Sean without something to occupy me. Questioning him without Allie wasn't an option.

"No." She shut her eyes and inhaled a few deep breaths. "I think... I'm alright, yeah." She gave Carmel another sly smile then looked at me. "How long have I been out? Did you talk to him?"

"About an hour, and no, of course not. Not without you."

"Let's go see him," she said.

Carmel helped her to her feet but remonstrated with, "I'm not letting you do it again."

"I don't need to, he's ready." She glanced at me apologetically. "He doesn't have the answers we want."

"What did you see?"

She shook her head. "He doesn't know anything about you, and barely anything about me. He can't tell us who we are, Bea. We should talk to him."

In the office, Sean remained in a stiff position, his head hung low, his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths. Carmel shifted the other chair further away and sat the spider on it.

Allie sounded anxious when she said, "Take the tape off his mouth, he's sick."

As soon as I peeled it away, he craned his neck sluggishly to one side and dry-retched over the carpet. Nothing came out but he was clearly unwell; he shook, sweated from overly pale skin.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked. "Is this because of you?"

"I don't know."

"How long have we had him here?" Carmel asked peculiarly and I checked my watch.

"Just over seven hours."

"Withdrawal," she said and picked the bottle of OxyContin we'd emptied from his bag off the desk. "Is this what you want?" He kept his eyes on the carpet in misery.

"Of course." I should have recognized the signs myself.

"How many of these do you take a day?"

He breathed heavily but didn't respond.

"Answer her," Allie's husky voice said and he raised his head. The direct eye-contact he avoided during her testing sessions was evident now.

"Fifteen, sometimes more," he said, keeping his eyes on Allie. It was like he was staring into the sun, he didn't want to look, it caused him pain, but he couldn't look away. She was still weak, leaning heavily in the chair, studying him back with a mixture of pity and disgust. The hatred was gone.

"That's a pretty major addiction," Carmel observed, meeting my gaze.

"You know who she is now," I said. "You know what you've done to her."

"I didn't know what happened to her, we never got told anything. Just that our job was done."

"You can call me Allie. Use Aranea once and I won't be happy."

He shook his head desolately and looked at her again.

"You're not going to do anything to put her in danger?"

"No. If you want to kill me..."

He started retching again, not bothering to lean to the side this time.

"We can't talk to him like this," Allie said. "We need him normal."

"You could give him some thiopental," Carmel said to me. "Just enough to ease the nausea so he can take a couple of pills."

I glanced at Allie and she nodded.

"Would you get a glass of water, Carm?" she asked and I drew a small dose of the drug into a needle and gave him a shot. Sean didn't even look at it, let alone fight it; he only continued gagging until, a few seconds later, he stopped, shut his eyes and started breathing more evenly. When Carmel came back with the water, Allie rose from her chair, withdrew two white pills from Sean's container and went to him.

"Sean," she said and he raised his head, opened his eyes. "Open your mouth." She put the pills on his tongue and held the water to his lips while he glugged messily, the beak of his Adam's apple pitching.

He stared at her when she took it away, eyes huge with emotion.

"I'm sorry," he choked out. "I'm so sorry."

"I know you are." Allie put the glass on the desk and returned to her seat.

"You alright?" Carmel asked, crouching beside her and she nodded.

"You should meet my friends. This is Carmel, and this is Bea. You'll answer their questions with total honesty and respect, as well as mine."

"I'll tell you everything I know," he said, eyes transferring slowly between each of us.

There was fifteen seconds of silence, and when it didn't look like Allie was going to continue, I began.

"You said you had a job with Allie. What job?"

He swallowed and took a slow lungful of air before he spoke.

"There were several unique genetic mutations in her genome, but we didn't know what caused them. Our job was to identify how the sequences were expressed in her neuronal pathways, how her genes were causing such phenomenal abilities. We couldn't do it, the process was an exercise in futility. We could follow the pathways in certain areas but too many steps were missing, we were fumbling in the dark. I suggested so many times that they needed to go back and study the sequences more, figure out how they were interacting with each other. We weren't geneticists. I was shut down every time."

A new wave of awe swept through me at Allie's power; the number of people in the world who would sell their souls to do what she could - to turn their suffering around on their tormenter so poetically. He wasn't the same man from her sessions, he wasn't the same man we'd captured. He was putty in our hands.

I narrowed my eyes and studied him.

"You knew you were torturing her for nothing?"

"We were told not to think of it as torture," he said, hanging his head. "He said to see it as encouragement, he said we wouldn't have to do it at all if she just did as she was told. He made it seem like it was out of our hands and in hers. And we accepted it, we pushed the alternative down deep. After a while, you become inured to it."

"Are you talking about Liam Gould?" Carmel asked.

"Dr. Gould, yes, but..." He looked up, dread in his eyes. "Gould is as much a puppet as we were."

"Who's the puppet master?"

"He's talking about Frederick Scholz," Allie said and he stared at her for a moment before nodding.

"I don't know him well. Enough to know he's a fossil and a Nazi."

"Nazi?"

"Sadistic bastard. He enjoys seeing people suffer, he was always watching on camera when we..." He lowered his head again. "When we hurt her. All of our orders came from him, he even dictated the way we looked at you. I don't know what he has over Dr. Gould but there must be something. He was well aware what we were doing would never render the results Scholz demanded." He shook his head. "Scholz doesn't even have medical training."

"What makes you think Gould was being pressured?"

"Because that's the way Scholz works. The Borders Program is mostly legit, the tiny bit that isn't, people are there because they're desperate. It's the last stop."

"How did you end up there?"

He looked at Allie with his defeated, watery eyes.

"I've been dependent on painkillers since my first year of residency. I was snapped over-ordering, hawking and altering records earlier this year. Gould built an entire file on me, spanning back months, and not just Oxy, he'd nabbed me for morphine, Dilaudid, Fentanyl; he knew exactly how serious my problem was. He gave me two choices, one, I lose my medical license, possibly end up doing time for fraud; my entire life down the drain, or two, I accept a specialized assignment with Borders. He called it a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity - if I worked with him on this case, I could continue my fellowship without consequence and they'd supply me with all the opiates I needed." His delivery was mechanical, he was distancing himself from what he was saying, but he was telling the truth. "I knew I'd be doing something I didn't want to, but I said yes."

Carmel wandered from the room as he talked and returned with a sandwich and Red Bull, handing them to Allie, who accepted silently and began to chew.

"What about the other one?" she asked through her food. "The woman. Is she an addict too?"

"Her name is Emily Mercer," he announced succinctly. "She has a little brother with a brain tumor. He's getting priority treatment at the hospital because of what she did; without it, he'll die. No one's brought into special cases unless their balls are in a vise grip."

"There are security, simple guards," I said.

"Not many," he nodded, "but he'll have them wrapped around his finger too, in one way or another."

"This is some sick shit," Carmel commented, half-perched against the desk top.

"Like I said, last stop," he said and repeated, "I'm sorry."

"What was Scholz's goal? To make more money?"

"No," he said, surprising me. "Scholz is a madman, he wants to have her abilities himself. He's consumed by the idea, it blinds him to everything else. His money can buy him anything he wants, except what you have."

"How long did you work on me, and where was I before that?" Allie asked in a small voice.

"Our knowledge of you was need-to-know only. We performed the tasks, marked the results in a written file and checked in with Gould. We were given our orders for the following day and that was it. We had you for six weeks before Gould told us you were moving on to something else and that was it. No explanation, just continuous warnings not to say a word to anyone."

"Six weeks?" Allie was clearly alarmed by this revelation. "Only six weeks?"

"The conditions would have made it seem like longer," he said. "Time would've distorted with no real measure..." He tailed away wretchedly.

"So, you don't know how they found her?" I asked.

"If you want to know what I think... I think Scholz scoured the earth for you. If only..." A glaze came over his eyes and he didn't finish the sentence.

"How many other people with abilities does he have?"

It took a few seconds for him to snap out of his trance and glance at me. "What?" he asked, dazed.

"Others with abilities? How many are there?"

"None." The question startled him. "She was... Is so special. There are no others."

I quelled the flood of disappointment that ran through me, remembering Allie had already said he knew nothing about me.

"What do you know about the men he hires for his dirty work?" Carmel asked.

"Sorry?"

"Men they sent looking for Allie."

"One of them almost killed me," she said and he expressed alarm.

"No," he shook his head. "He never stopped stressing how valuable you were. Bounty hunters maybe, but not to kill you, just to capture you. It makes sense, the way he's been acting lately, unstrung. He lost you; Scholz will be out for blood and he's desperate. His blunders are closing in on all sides."

His eyes wandered to the office's open doorway and he raised his brows. When I followed his line of sight, an evil-eyed Guido had appeared and sat as sentry just outside the door, watching.

"Can I ask... How did you do this? How did you get free?"

He was as clueless as we were about what she was doing in the helicopter. The pangs of pity that emerged when I looked at his profile, increased. Allie must have felt it to because she looked at me.

"Would you take his ropes off?"

"You sure?" She nodded and I whispered to Carmel, "Keep your gun on him," before I moved to free him. He stayed still, didn't move except to rub his wrists when I separated him from the cord.

"Thank you," he said.

"How did you erase her memories?" Carmel asked and he looked at her.

"I wasn't responsible for that, but I can guess they did it through stunning of the neurons in targeted areas of the medial temporal lobe. The theory has been in development for years but..." He paused looking pained. "It's not ethical."

"When did that stop you," I said bitterly. "Can it be reversed?"

"Unlikely. I'm sorry."

"Tell us about Frederick Scholz."

"I barely know the man, he didn't speak to us directly often. People tend to be afraid of him for the reasons I've said, he's got something on everyone. I saw him very rarely before we started this assignment. He was around a lot during, but disappeared completely the same time she did. I don't think he's been in town for a while. If he has contact with Dr. Gould, it's from a distance."

"You used special cases in plural before. Why?" I asked and he met my eyes.

"There are other human research subjects. Four or five, I think."

I inhaled sharply. "Where?"

"Boltbridge Road. I don't know much about them, it's made to look like they're legitimate, voluntary patients."

"How do you know they're not voluntary?"

"Call it intuition. There are a lot of avenues of research at the Institute which would surge forward if they had human subjects to work on."

"If there are non-consensual subjects in that building, why is there so little security around it?"

"They're trying to make it look as innocent as possible. Hiding in plain sight. But some of the areas inside the building are impenetrable to unauthorized personnel, the patients kept isolated and only their own attendees have access to them. There is no free exchange between experimenters. What are you trying to hide if you hide it that well?"

"They're prisoners. Just like..." I didn't finish. If the theory of it had been nauseating, the reality was going to take a while to register all the way.

"What are you going to do?" he asked me.

"What do you mean?"

"You've brought me here, asked me questions. You have some kind of plan?"

"We have to get those people out of there," Allie said.

"But how?" he hissed.

"We don't have a plan," I stated plainly. "Do you know if there's any evidence of their illegal work in Institute databases?"

He shook his head vigorously. "No way. Gould must have private files though, in his laptop maybe. And there might be more detailed information on who you are and what procedures were done on you in the past. I can't get near Scholz but I can get to Gould."

"What are you suggesting?" I frowned at him.

"If evidence is what you want, let me help. Now I've been brought in, Gould won't let me go; he's already told me he has another assignment for me but he's been putting me off lately, rambling about having more important things to worry about. I haven't pushed my services because I've always preferred to spend as little time around him as possible. But he's so off-balance at the moment, he'd probably accept it. If I can worm my way into his good books, make myself indispensable, I might get a lot more information than I have now."

"Are you offering to spy for us?" Carmel asked.

"Yes," he said simply, maintaining eye-contact with her.

"You can switch teams so easily?" I was incredulous and he stared at me for a moment.

"Do you have any clue what she just did to me?" he asked quietly.

"Gould could still destroy your life."

"I was a fool to let him control me. But I did, and it's brought me here, so let me take advantage of my position with him. I've been deluding myself. I can't..." He shook his head. "I have to do something. After-" He nudged his head at Allie instead of finishing.

"You're still an addict," Carmel observed.

"Maybe I'll be able to get help if I admit what I've done."

"If we accept your offer, do you understand how this could end up?"

"Scholz could have me killed."

"If he doesn't, you'll end up in prison."

"I'm already in prison."

I stared at the intensity in his face, but couldn't decide if he was an idiot, or Allie a God.

"What makes you think you can lie your way through this?" Carmel asked. "You got caught stealing drugs."

"Sure, after five years. I can do this." His eyes were determined, with a hint of Allie's wildness. "If I can't, I'll improvise."

"I don't like the sound of that," I said.

"Even if I get access to just one of these patients, I can take photos, scan documents." He glanced at me then stared at Allie. "Trust me. I have your pain."

Allie went to him and he flinched when she put her hand to the back of his neck. But both remained cognizant.

"Come here," she beckoned to us and held her hand out. "Put your skin against mine properly."

When I touched her wrist, a feeling dispersed inside me. Regret, self-hate, no less than unmitigated compliance to make up for my mistakes. It was Sean's, overruling and irrefutable. Not believing him was preposterous. Less than thirty seconds passed before Carmel moved, tugging Allie's hand gently from his skin.

"You're weak as is."

She didn't argue; the few seconds were more than enough for her message to be received.

"Kitchen." I gestured for them to follow as I left the office.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" Carmel asked when we were out of earshot. "He's offering to put his ass on the line."

"This is all too easy and moving so fast," I said, fingering my wig to make sure it was aligned. "I trust he's not going to lie after that, but he doesn't know anything. Half of what he's saying is hearsay and the other half is seriously stunted. He doesn't know anything."

"If he can get us evidence, what does it matter how little he knows?"

"She has a point, Bea. He's useful, and he's keen. Let's use him."

"If he can do it at all, it could take weeks for him to get something we can use. In the meantime, those people are trapped, having who knows what done to them."

"Are you suggesting we get him to talk to the police now? There's still a chance Gould could buy them off or cover it up somehow. Sean says he has these other patients listed as voluntary, he might even have them brainwashed into believing they are, or at least intimidated into silence."

Allie nodded at her words.

"That's not what I meant," I said pensively. "We know how effective Allie's technique is now. Why don't we just take Gould and do the same to him? Remove the middle man; Gould might hand over whatever records they have himself. Better still, why not target Scholz? Based on what Sean's saying, we can make a fair assumption that he's the driving force behind all this." I finished and they stared at me, Carmel nodding vaguely.

She put her hand on Allie's arm. "Do you think you could do it again, once you're properly rested?"

"Yes, if I have a couple of days to rejuvenate." She paused thoughtfully while we watched. "With Gould. I don't want to try with Scholz, it doesn't feel right. Sean believes he's evil, you heard him; he gets off on pain. If I try it with him, it could go the other way. He'll change me before I change him."

"No Scholz then," I said. "He'd be harder to get to anyway."

"The problem with Gould is, I'll be sharing memories of pain inflicted by others, he'll be able to distance himself from the guilt Sean felt. I should be able to tell fairly quickly after touching him how hard it's going to be."

"What should we do about Sean?" Carmel asked and I considered.

"Accept his offer, let him go, see what he can do while we make a plan for Gould."

"Should we tell him?"

"Not yet," Allie said, eyes twinkling. "His incentive is strong, I want to give him something to do."

"Shit," Carmel said, catching my gaze with a snigger, "still vengeful."

"It was his idea," Allie shrugged.

"Mm. So, we just set him free?"

"We could blindfold him, take him to the other side of town and leave him with his bike, so he never sees the car or knows where the house is."

"He's not going to tell a soul about this," Allie said, "or seeing me. He wants to sacrifice himself. You felt it."

"We can make an arrangement to meet him in two days. If Gould suspects he's up to something, he'll take what he has coming and none of us are any worse off."

"Okay." I opted in and made my way back to the office.

He still sat unmoved in the chair and questioning us with his eyes. I'd half expected him to at least make a break for his pills on the desk, but no.

"We accept your offer," Allie said with a small smile and he looked at her, awestruck.

He showed no resistance when we followed Carmel's suggestion, blindfolded him, drove him into town and handed over his bike and backpack.

"We destroyed your phone," Carmel informed him with minimal regret.

"It's okay, I understand."

"So, where do you go from here?" I asked for clarification.

"Home. Sleep. Tomorrow, I get a new phone with a good camera, see Gould, ask about my new assignment; show enthusiasm. We've eaten together a couple of times, I'll offer to buy him lunch. If he's as end-of-the-road as I think, he'll accept my outstretched hand."

"We'll see you Thursday, six pm sharp," I said and he dipped his chin.

Carmel handed him the bottle of Oxy.

"Take it easy with these, we want you functional."

"And we'll be watching you, Sean," Allie warned.

He put a hand to her arm, the gesture quite shocking after what she'd put him through.

"Thank you," he said poignantly before he climbed on his bike and disappeared into the darkness.

"If he's that keen to help, why didn't he didn't suggest we go to Gould?" I pondered.

"He probably thought we'd kill him unless we needed him," Carmel said.

"He did," Allie agreed. "It doesn't matter, he thinks he can redeem himself and where's the harm?"

The relief of an end to the long night was intense and I surprised myself by wrapping my arms around Allie's thin shoulders snugly.

"You were incredible," I said. A hug had never meant so much.
Chapter Nine

Nothing Lasts

Dawn was breaking by the time I got to bed. I slept till early afternoon.

"What are you doing today?" Carmel asked in the kitchen, scanning my Laura clothes.

"I'll keep eyes on Gould this afternoon and evening."

"I'll come with you."

"No, you should stay, look after Allie." She was still in bed and I assumed she might be that way all day, but her worth had made an enormous leap since last night and I didn't want her left alone. I was also worried what subjects might arise if I spent too much time alone with the pretender.

"Okay. At least let me take you to get a new rental first. Or did you want to use the Lexus?"

"Right, the car," I remembered. "I guess we don't need to worry about getting in trouble for Sean's abduction, renting another with Laura should be okay. Yeah, would you? I'll use the outlet in Briggs, you'll be back in twenty minutes."

"Allie probably won't move but I'll leave a note on the off-chance."

This time I chose a silver Jeep Grand Cherokee. I transferred a few things, assured Carmel I'd keep my phone on and parked up at Boltbridge Road.

The Director's Bentley was in the parking lot when I arrived at three pm, but he left two hours later and, after a brief stop at a 24 hour convenience store, drove home, appearing to settle in for the night. His expression and movements betrayed him; while he'd looked stressed and impatient last time I'd seen him, today his movements were slow, defeated, as if he had given up hope and only awaited the inevitable fall. He was a big man, at least 5'11", with the rotund shape of someone who lived on fast food, and I noticed his walk sported a slight limp, favoring his left leg. Maybe I was reading too much into it, but his eye-bags and drooping jowls inspired both pity and enthusiasm. I waited on Plimmerton Street and watched the lights in the house go on one by one before starting the engine and heading home at seven.

The evening was quiet; Allie had risen at four, eaten and showered, then returned to bed and was dead to the world again two hours later, so it was just Carmel and I for dinner. She left a plate in the fridge which she anticipated Allie needing at some ridiculous hour during the night. It was good, the rest, I hoped it meant she would be ready for the Director on Thursday night, but if it took longer, I didn't mind.

The basic truth was, I felt immense fear about how the night with Gould might end; what terrible truths we might discover. Carmel assured me Allie felt the same way and that her primary motives stood with mine - to get evidence in order to free the remaining test subjects.

It was a lot to ask for.

As habit dictated, I began to question if Allie would have the success she did with Sean. She'd already pointed out it likely wouldn't be so easy this time. I returned to watch the house at Plimmerton Street between eleven and one am to keep myself occupied. Lights in the downstairs rooms stayed on during this time, but I saw no one enter or leave and saw no sign of him through the windows. Maybe he slept with lights on. The inactivity was reassuring - he clearly did not have much of a life outside work. No late night lovers visiting, no neighbors dropping by to return a lawnmower. His house may be the best place to corner him, at least there wouldn't be the risk of Sean's open-air street abduction. Eventually I called it a night and went home to bed where a sleepy Guido waited for me on a deck chair outside the guest house.

Allie rose and joined us halfway through breakfast on Thursday. She was happy but still lacking her usual exuberance; we scarcely discussed the Director and I had a sense she wouldn't be ready to carry out another conditioning tonight. Again I asked that Carmel stay with her today, a day which turned out prosaic anyway. Liam Gould didn't leave his house at all, his car unmoved from last night. I knew he was home though because at two pm, a Domino's pizza delivery car pulled up and I saw his disheveled bulk, complete with rumpled shirt and uncombed silver hair, answer the front door and accept the boxes brusquely.

When I got home at five to have a bite before our meeting with Sean, the spider was more her usual self. Excited, she literally bounced up the stairs to change into her Fleur outfit, substituting her wig for a beanie.

Sean already waited for us on a park bench near a play area in the middle of town, his bike propped beside him. The night was dark, cold and windy. He stood up as we approached and stubbed a cigarette into a nearby trash can.

"Nasty habit," he said sheepishly and stared at the woman he now knew was the spider in disguise.

"You're here," I said, still surprised by his compliance.

"Did you get a new phone?" Carmel asked and he nodded.

I pulled a notepad and pen out of my pocket and scribbled as he gave me the number.

"I don't have anything for you," he looked at me apologetically. "I've made no progress since Tuesday." He scanned our empty surroundings before he continued. "When I went to see Dr. Gould yesterday morning, he was in a right fluster, he told me he'd speak to me about my new assignment today but didn't show up. Nobody else had seen him either. I rang his phone and he told me tomorrow, but..." He shook his head, wind blowing his scruffy hair eastward. "It was four when I rang and he sounded drunk. I've never heard him drunk before."

"He's at home," I said. "He's been there since yesterday. Has he ever invited you to his house?"

"You mean, Plimmerton Street? Once," he grimaced. "The night he approached me with his evidence and offered me the job."

"If you knocked on his door, would he let you in?"

"He'd be surprised but yeah, I could make it happen. What are you thinking?"

"Will you help us get into Gould's house and immobilize him?" Allie asked and he stared at her. He nodded in understanding.

"You're going to program him like you did me."

"Do you think it will work?"

"I do. And yes, I'll help. I might know the right questions to ask better than you. Tonight?"

"Tonight," Allie confirmed and I turned to her.

"Are you sure you're ready? We can wait longer."

"Tonight is good," she said and I glanced at Carmel.

"She's been eating all day and she's well rested. We'll get some Red Bull to bring."

"Okay." I stared at the brightly colored play area behind the bench, remembering Carmel's words, action had its place.

"I say we keep an eye on his house until ten and if no one is around, Sean knocks," Allie said.

"I can make up some half-assed story about being paranoid someone's following me, that'll get his attention and get me inside. But then what?" he asked. He'd proved he wasn't going to betray us so allowing him to see the car wasn't an issue; we were using the Laura rental anyway.

"If he's drunk you should be able to give him a dose of tranquilizer easily. Are willing to do that?" I asked and he stared at me.

"It will be easy if I can slip it into his glass, but this is the end of the line, right? I'm younger and much more agile, I'll do it whatever way I can."

"When he's out, you let us in."

"We'll have to wait hours if you give him that," Allie objected.

"We'll have to wait hours for him to sober up anyway," I said and Sean nodded.

"In the meantime, we could have a look around his house for records."

"Should we be taking the risk of spending the night at Gould's house?" Carmel asked. "What if someone else comes?"

That she was the only one to mention this possibility was senseless and bizarre; I would berate myself over and over for dismissing her words so easily.

"His wife divorced him, his daughter lives in Frankfurt, and I haven't seen him have a visitor in the time I've watched his house since Monday." I was only thinking how long the night was going to be and what might lie at the end of it. As part of a group, I'd allowed myself to become overconfident. We had weapons and we had Allie.

"Dr. Gould's life is his work, it always has been," Sean backed me up. "I've never known him not to show up for a meeting, or even take a sick day."

"Bringing him to the house would be better," Allie said. "But he's huge, he'll be heavy, even with all four of us, it wouldn't be easy dragging him around unconscious. Besides, what if someone saw us? Plimmerton Street is more openly residential than Boltbridge."

"Gould's it is then," Carmel gave in.

"If he's too drunk to even answer the door we'll reassess the situation." I checked my watch and told Sean, "Pick you up here in two hours. Go home, leave your bike there, get what you need. It's going to be a long night." He nodded in confirmation and climbed back on his wheels.

The two hours were spent parked on Plimmerton Street, talking quietly. Lights shone in Gould's and those across the road, though the windows on either side of his house were dark, with no cars in the driveways.

"It's dead," Allie commented. "We shouldn't wait until ten, we should do it as soon as possible."

"The later we leave it the more likely he is to be passed out," I agreed. "Breaking and entering isn't a good idea. We don't know what security he has, and just because his neighbors look out doesn't mean they are."

Sean waited for us at the same park bench when we returned just after eight. He stubbed another cigarette out before he climbed in the backseat beside the spider.

The four of us watched the mute but lit house in almost total silence for forty minutes before, just on nine pm, Allie huffed and muttered her frustration. I turned to Sean and studied him. He peered back impassively, expectant.

"Are you ready?"

After a brief sideways glance at the spider, he nodded his consent, "Full on, yeah."

I handed him three hypodermic needles full of Midazolam - there was no guarantee his first attempt would be successful - and he shoved them in the front pocket of his windbreaker.

"Don't do anything silly, Sean," Allie said and he shot her a somber smile before he pushed the door open and climbed out.

"This is about saving him, not hurting him, I understand that," he said quietly before he clicked the door shut and strode confidently toward the house.

When he got to the door, he straightened his posture, attempted to smooth back his messy hair and knocked. It took a full minute and two subsequent knocks before Gould answered, as bedraggled as he was with the pizza delivery man, expression dazed before his brow furrowed in annoyance. But at least he'd answered. I couldn't hear what they were saying but Sean, making some small, diligent arm gestures, was supposedly cogent because Gould eventually swung the door open and half-heartedly allowed Sean to follow him inside.

No one spoke, a lit match could have ignited the suspense in the car - Allie was gearing to bust in there without Sean's signal. It was almost half an hour before we saw the front door open again and Sean's pale face and sleeved arm popped out; he raised a surreptitious thumb and beckoned. I handed pairs of surgical gloves to the others.

"I won't be able to wear these for what I need to do," Allie complained with distaste.

"Just humor me, would you? When the time is right, you can take them off."

I shoved my HS2000 beneath my coat and the silencer in its pocket, and Carmel did the same.

"Put the suppressor on as soon as we get inside," I told her, "and keep it close at all times."

She nodded and picked up the plastic bag of Red Bull and PowerBar's, while I retrieved my shoulder bag, containing the same cording I'd used to tie Sean with, from the cargo bay. We left the car and approached the house under too-bright streetlamps, Carmel bumping carefree shoulders with Allie.

Sean only looked moderately nervous as he led us through the entrance hall. The kitchen, as we passed, looked like a bomb had hit it, dirty dishes and empty takeout containers stacked on grimy countertops.

Liam Gould's bulk lay sprawled awkwardly on the carpet of the living area, next to an armchair with a small table beside it. The table had two cardboard pizza boxes and a bright blue bottle of Bombay Sapphire gin with accompanying glass beside it. A wide-screen, wall-mounted television flickered on mute and a smart phone and open laptop sat on a nearby sofa. As Carmel bent to check his pulse, I went immediately to the laptop and covered the webcam with a piece of tape. It had been left for too long, was asleep and required a fingerprint scan to access. If only I had Rhys here, I thought fleetingly; clever little hacker boy would be useful now. I pushed the phone deep under the heavy cushions of the sofa.

"He'll be fine," Sean said to Carmel. "I put some in his drink while he was in the bathroom. He felt something was wrong and was getting to his feet when he collapsed, that's why he's positioned that way. I gave him a little more in his vein once he was down, I wanted to be sure, he's a big one. I still have another shot," he said, placing the remaining hypodermic on the coffee table. "He was drunk but not legless drunk. With the amount I gave him for a man of his size, I'd say he'll be out for approximately six hours. Maybe more because of the alcohol in his system. Maybe less if he's a regular benzo user, which I highly doubt." The rambling betrayed his anxiety.

"You did good," I said, glancing at him.

"Let's get him back into the chair," Carmel said and Sean and I moved to help her.

Allie continued wandering around the living area, studying the family photos on his walls and poking through the china cabinet. She wouldn't have been much help anyway, but we might as well have been trying to shift a freight train moving Gould. True lifting wasn't achievable, it was more of a cumbersome, slide, push and pull job. There was no way we would have been able to get him to the lake-house unconscious.

I handcuff-knotted his wrists and ankles and taped his mouth, trying to avoid contact with the flabby cellulite in his chins as his head pitched forward, and the acrid stench of pepperoni and spirits wafting from his flaccid lips.

"Allie," I tried to get her attention. "Do you want to have a feel of him now, see if you can tell how hard it will be?"

"He's too plastered," she said, continuing to look around the room. "When I touched Sean for the first time he was comparatively sober, it's the only reason I knew. I'll be able to learn more about what type of man he is by searching through his personal belongings. It will make it easier to get through to him when I get into his head, to know where his vulnerabilities are."

And for the next six hours, she did just that. While the rest of us targeted filing cabinets, rifled through folders, and attempted to unlock his phone, computers and search for hidden safes, Allie flicked through photo albums, foraged his wardrobes and dressers, and studied the books he kept on his shelves.

I checked the security at the front door of the house, the alarm was off and the doorbell had an off-mode, which I pushed for good measure before wandering into the kitchen.

"The man drives a Bentley, you'd think he could afford to pay for a cleaner to come in once in a while," I muttered in disgust, peering around the greasy, squalid kitchen.

"It wasn't like this when I was here last," Sean said. "It was spotless then. He's deteriorated, he may be at the end of his tether. It's good, isn't it?"

"It's good, Sean. But I don't want to contaminate my pretty gloves," Carmel needled in bad form and he snorted.

"What did you say to get inside? Did you tell him you thought someone was following you?" I asked and he nodded.

"Said I thought I'd seen a black car parked outside my apartment lately, acting paranoid to the teeth, said I thought the police were following me."

"He didn't make any calls, did he?"

"To be honest, he didn't seem all that surprised or concerned. No, he didn't make any calls, just flopped in his chair and continued drinking while I gabbled, all nervous and trying to get a reaction out of him. He got up to take a leak and I spiked his glass. That's all she wrote."

As predicted we found no incriminating files or indication of illegal procedures. Allie seemed happy with her findings though.

"He's not all bad," she concluded, examining photos of him with his daughter as a baby. "I can get through to him."

Gould was unconscious for a lot longer than we expected; we waited at intervals, simply watching him, but a watched pot never boils. Sean checked his pulse regularly assuring us he was fine, but frustration mounted in Allie, and exacerbated my own. It was almost six am when he finally showed signs of movement. We gathered around him and awaited the inevitable struggle and panic.

His neck creaked and he groaned when he finally lifted it, his hands and midsection squirming feebly. When his eyes focused and he glanced between the four of us, they contained all of fear, confusion and anger. They rested on Sean eventually, his brow ridge deeply furrowed, muffled sounds emanating from beneath the tape.

"Relax Dr. Gould," Sean said. "This is for your own good."

He glanced again at the three of us, taking in the weapon I had pointed at him and the one Carmel held at her side. I peeled the tape from his mouth slowly, he didn't yell, he exhaled deeply, and I recoiled from the spit that shot out his mouth.

"You piece of flotsam," he snarled at Sean. "What's the meaning of this? Who are these women?"

"Promise to be quiet and you'll live," I said quietly and he sneered.

"I'm not an idiot, you've got me. You'll get yours Horvath. Are you after your file?" he asked. "You know I'm not the only one who has it."

"I don't give a darn about my file," Sean snorted and Gould narrowed his eyes. "Give it to the cops, give it to anyone you want."

"Believe me, I will," he replied but his voice lost some of its power. "State what you want."

Allie moved toward my shoulder bag on the sofa. She pulled the beanie from her head, shook her hair out and peeled her face skin off. I watched Gould, who stared at her, his eyes narrowing. With deliberate movements she placed the accessories in the bag and removed her contacts. When she turned back toward Gould, his jaw and chins dropped; true dread entered his expression.

"You," he gasped, glanced at Sean briefly and stuttered, "What's she doing here? How..." He didn't finish, he looked back at Allie and didn't take his eyes off her, but his contorted grimace said it all. He looked like he was about to shit himself. I actually crossed my fingers and said a prayer he didn't, this rancid room didn't need additional bad smells, not while we still had to spend time in it.

"She's not going to hurt you," Sean said hastily, possibly thinking the same thing, and Gould tore his eyes from the spider to him. "She's going to educate you."

"Do you admit your actions with patients have spiraled out of control?" Carmel asked while the spider and Gould stared at each other. His face twitched and his chins wobbled but he didn't answer. "Maybe you would be better off dead, looking around here, it seems you've given up." He looked at her then, his ruddy face swathed in perspiration.

"You want to kill me? Let's get it over with," he said, his grimace falling away into vacancy. His eyes widened again though when the spider moved close. She replaced the tape over his mouth.

"Death would be nice and easy, wouldn't it?" she probed and moved behind him while he twisted his head, vainly attempting to follow her with his eyes.

"Just a minute, he's all sweaty. Get that office chair from the other room, Bea," Carmel said and headed to the bathroom.

I placed the chair behind the Director's and Allie sat, pulled a glove off and stuffed it in her pocket. When Carmel returned she had a wet washcloth, she pulled the collar of his shirt down and scrubbed at the base of his neck thoroughly while he hyperventilated, fat cheeks puffing.

"Try to stay calm, Dr. Gould," Sean urged. "I've been where you are and I'm better now."

When Allie laid her hand at his neck, his immediate response was unlike Sean's; he began yelling beneath the tape, frantic sounds that I had no doubt would wake the neighborhood were they properly heard. Allie kept still, her eyes shut in concentration, not reacting to his sounds. After a minute, his screams tailed away into whimpers then silenced, and he went limp, his head hanging forward.

"He's stopped fighting it," Sean commented quietly. His eyes sparkled, he knew exactly what Gould was experiencing.

"I don't know why you look so happy," I said and he leaned toward me without taking his eyes off the scene.

"What she's doing," he whispered deferentially, "it's an honest to God miracle. Yeah, I'm happy."

Carmel and I sat on the sofa and eventually Sean joined us in an armchair close by.

"Jesus, I hope she doesn't pass out like last time," I said.

"She'll be okay," Carmel assured. "Her energy levels are at least twice what they were with Sean. She hadn't prepared herself enough then."

There was a few minutes of silence, Sean rubbing his forefinger thoughtfully across his lips before he turned to us.

"Thank you for what you've done," he said fervidly. "Can I ask ...how you found her?"

I studied him for a moment, then said, "People are dead, Sean. Nothing about this was easy."

"The man who tried to kill her? Good. She must be protected at all cost," he pointed a finger toward her, "that girl is some kind of messenger from God."

There was an almost imperceptible snigger beside me and I could guess what was running through Carmel's mind - Bruja pequeño malo. I felt tempted to giggle myself, but kept my face straight.

"It was Carmel who found her, Carmel who saved her, undid the damage you'd done," I stated scathingly and Carmel snorted.

"That damage can never be undone."

"I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it," he shook his sad, scruffy head, pulled his pill bottle from his pocket and tossed one back. I kept my mouth shut.

"Bea," he said solemnly and I glanced at him. "The records. We can't let the police have her. God knows where she'll end up if they get their hands on her."

"They won't get her," I said and he nodded, silence falling over the room for a minute.

"I'll end up someone's bitch in prison," he said thoughtfully, chewing on a nail and Carmel sniggered again.

"You could plead insanity," I said.

"I wasn't insane. Just stupid and selfish. I'll end up someone's bitch and I'll deserve it."

"Shut up, Sean," Carmel finally spoke. "Yeah you will, stop feeling sorry for yourself. You tormented a beautiful, special person; having a cock in your ass isn't the worst that could happen."

He took his finger from his mouth and stared at her in shock, then he laughed. "You speak truth!"

"Good grief, Carmel." I tried to swallow my own inappropriate, nervous amusement.

He was willing to confess to his crimes, sure, but unless Allie's records were discovered, Sean might not even go to prison. Still, only Carmel could have said something like that and got a laugh out of it.

The spider and Gould were in another world, not disrupted by the hushed conversation.

"After what he put Bea through, it's a pity no one will find that prick attractive enough to give a good going over," she went on and behind the pall inspired by the comment I felt a renewed surge of affection for her.

"You?" Sean looked at me in confusion. "What did Dr. Gould do to you?"

"Not your business, Sean. Sorry Bea," she said, then added a pensive, "Maybe he'll get shanked instead. Mind you, it takes all kinds, doesn't it?"

"Carmel! Stop. It's becoming hard not to laugh and this isn't the place."

"I'm not trying to be funny, I'm anxious."

Silence fell again after that, but I noticed Sean casting the occasional strange look my way, on the verge of letting additional queries out but never quite getting there. In the following days and with the advantage of 20/20 vision, I would question Carmel's anxiety at this point; she hadn't been like this with Sean, she'd been calm because Allie was calm.

Allie returned to the room at seven fifteen after a full hour and Carmel went to her.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, grabbing her hand.

"I'm okay, I need an energy recharge; this is a challenge."

Sean brought the bag of Red Bull over and handed her one, which she downed immediately.

When I went to observe Gould's face, it wasn't hanging in guilt like Sean's, but he was returning my look with wide, beseeching eyes, making controlled efforts to communicate words under his tape.

"Why is this taking so long? He looks willing to talk," I said.

"If we take the tape off his mouth, he could say whatever he wants. He's not opening up yet, I haven't seen anything about Scholz or you, or any other patients. He's not ready."

"You're sure you're up to more?"

"I'm sure. I have to get it right."

She downed three cans of Red Bull in all, used the bathroom, gobbled a PowerBar and returned to her position.

Gould didn't attempt to fight it this time, so she was making progress.

At eight, a muffled tune startled us and we stared at each other. Allie and Gould were unaffected by the noise.

"One of you bring a phone?" Sean asked.

"It's coming from the sofa," Carmel said and we got up.

"It's Gould's," I said as we crowded around. I reached into where I'd shoved it and checked the number - unknown.

It stopped, answered by voicemail, but rang again within seconds, the same unknown number.

"What do we do?"

"We can't answer it, I'll put it in the bedroom under a mattress."

The ringing had stopped again by the time I pushed it out of sight. I listened for a minute, but heard no further tinkles.

When I returned to the living area, Carmel was pressing her hand to Allie's wrist, probably checking she was still capable of continuing, before she leaned against the back of the sofa and watched closely. Sean stood studying Liam Gould's framed achievements covering one of the walls. I joined him.

The standard diplomas and credentials were there, undergrad and post grad, a PhD in Neurobiology, his medical degree. I frowned at one stating 'Certification of Participation - International Conference on Controversies and Consensus in Neurosurgery', and wondered at his motives for attending a gathering of that nature. There were seven separate licenses to practice medicine, Texas, Colorado, Massachusetts - causing a raised eyebrow - California, Illinois, Washington, and New York.

"This is weird," I commented to Sean beside me. "You need a separate license for all states in order to practice?"

"Mm, each state has its own licensing board. The regulations are outdated, the Federation of State Medical Boards has been trying to change them but it's a slow process. Some of these licenses cost a bit to obtain and keep renewed too. I guess he needs to follow the rules up to a point."

"Don't people normally keep this stuff in their work offices?"

"I think he did for a while. Maybe he moved them out of shame? He would have started out to help people but he's violated his Hippocratic oath in extreme ways by now. All this work," he gestured, "all these achievements and look where it's brought him - hurting people to indulge the fantasies of a madman with too much money."

Just as he finished the sentence chaos erupted. The following moments were difficult to relate in any comprehensive sense, it happened quickly, there was no time for observation or calculation.

I heard a small creak first, in the hallway where there wasn't supposed to be anyone. When I turned from the wall, my vague interest turned to panic in milliseconds. I saw a dark shape in the doorway, holding a gun; at the same time, Carmel moved in a flash, she stepped straight toward Allie. I raised the gun from my side immediately. After years of practice, I was a crack shot even in my haste. The bullet hit him straight between the eyes and he dropped to the carpet.

But it didn't matter, I was too late. Before my suppressed shot, he'd got one of his own out. Loud and deadly.

He'd pointed his gun directly at the spider's head in sitting position, but with the pretender's hurried intervention, Allie's head was untouched; Carmel wasn't.

Roused from her stupor by the shots, I heard an alto bawl from Allie as I approached the unknown male and kicked the gun from beside his hand. There was no need to check his pulse, his brown eyes were frozen open and a trickle of blood discharged from the hole in his brow. I turned back from the doorway, and saw Allie clutching Carmel around the shoulders, hysterical, head buried in her neck, Sean gripped her wrist.

"She's dead," Sean said in shock. "She's fucking dead."

My racing heart stopped beating, the moment suspended in my memory.

"Start compressions or something, you're a doctor!" I screeched.

When he moved to shift Allie's sobbing form away from her, he recoiled immediately, pressing his hands to his temples. I got hold of her arms myself and tried to pull her back but felt it straight away, an enormous pressure inside my skull, not quite pain, but for a few seconds, my awareness of who I was, what I was doing, became fuzzy, indefinable. I fell on the carpet and tried to shake it away. When I opened my eyes again, Sean had seized the remaining hypodermic needle from the coffee table, crept at Allie from behind and shoved it through the material of her shirt crudely, straight into her upper arm.

She flopped limply over Carmel and he shifted her away and began to pump both palms methodically on Carmel's chest as I sat up and shuffled closer on my knees.

"Come on, Carmel," I wept, laying a hand against her head.

I don't know how long he tried for, time was utterly distorted.

When he stopped, he lifted her left side up and inspected the underside of her back.

"Keep going!" I yelled, knowing deep down it was pointless. The blood beneath her soaked the carpet.

"Bea," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. "The bullet went straight into her heart, she's gone."

Another sob escaped my throat and I crawled to Allie's motionless form.

"I had to do it," Sean plead. "She would never have let us get near her. She knew." He turned accusingly toward Gould, still bound in his armchair and watching the scene with eyes almost popping from his head. He tore the tape from his mouth and demanded, "Who is that asshole now? Is someone else coming?"

"No," he rasped and nudged his head toward Allie while my stricken thoughts tried to collect themselves. "I hired him to find her. He was to meet me here at eight this morning for an update, when I didn't answer my phone or doorbell he must have broken in. I told him not to harm her." He sounded close to hysterical himself but I didn't care.

"You see what happens when you get mixed up in this corrupt shit?" Sean screamed and he flinched. "She was a good person! He comes in here shooting when they're trying to help. After everything we did!"

"I'm sorry." He peered at me, still kneeling at Allie's side, and close to paralyzed. He studied my face through terrified, bulbous eyes. "Are you the actress?"

I wanted to scream, I wanted to scream my lungs out.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sean asked raggedly and turned back to me. "Someone must have heard that gunshot. The police will be here, there's no time to do this delicately, we'll have to improvise." He glared at Gould. "Are you ready to help me? Turn ourselves in so the rest of those patients can get help."

"I'm ready," he said quietly then looked at me. "You have to get her as far away from here as possible. The authorities will take care of this one."

"I'll make sure of it," Sean growled at him. He picked up Carmel's gun from the table, held it out to me.

The effort required to snap out of my paralysis and get my heavy limbs to lift into standing position was the greatest I've ever faced. I thought of Allie, I thought of my promise to Carmel, and I moved. I took the gun from Sean and shoved it into the shoulder bag.

"Give me yours, I'll say I did it. She and I were here to get information from Dr. Gould, it was self-defense."

I removed the suppressor from the HS2000, handed it to him and he fingered the hammer and trigger before laying it on the table.

"We have to get Allie to your car," he said and laid his hands on my shoulders, his eyes frantic, questioning if I was still with him. I inhaled deeply, nodded and looked again at Allie. Her hands and sleeves were stained with Carmel's blood but the rest was proportionately clean.

"Can you drive?" I asked and when he answered in the affirmative, I handed over my keys. "Bring it into the driveway, as close as you can."

I knelt down and bent over Carmel. She didn't look dead, if I blocked out the blood underneath her back, she looked asleep. As gently as possible I pulled her eyelids up and removed her contacts. I tugged the wig from her head, untied her dark hair and ran my fingers through it. I stripped the extra skin from her, trying not to let my tears drip onto the beautiful face underneath, now lifeless.

"The actress," I heard Gould gasp. "I didn't want this, I wouldn't..."

I tuned out, ignored him. I kissed Carmel's forehead, stroked her hair and whispered, "I'll keep my promise, I won't let anything happen to her," into her skin. "I'll never-" It was too much, my voice broke; I had to stop this.

A haggard Sean returned holding a thick eiderdown from one of the bedrooms; I gave his hovering figure a hard stare.

"This is Belen Abreu. She's a missing actress the police are searching for. Her birth name is Saffron Crowe. You tell them that. You tell them she convinced you to come forward. Got it?"

"I'll tell them," he said, words cracking with emotion.

"And you," I shot daggers at Gould. I removed my own wig, scratched the nose and extra skin from my face, blinked my black contacts out and shoved it all hastily in my shoulder bag. I stared at Gould, I must have looked crazed and chaotic through my tears, but his jaw dropped anyway and he gaped at me. "You recognize me?" I asked, not knowing what I was trying to accomplish.

"I recognize you," he said faintly.

"What did you do to her?" Sean bristled.

"She was a thorn in my side," he shook his head listlessly. "Escaped four years ago. We were sure you were dead."

"Another test subject? Dammit to shit hell," he discharged his tumult.

"For you to show up now," he stared at me. "Oculi and Aranea found each other, of course you did. You two were..." He didn't finish, just shook his head again, chins lurching.

There was nothing else I could do, I didn't have time. I balled my fist and punched him in the eye as hard as I could; he took it, then he hung his head.

"You'll turn yourself in now, you'll turn your records on illegal procedures and anything about Frederick Scholz over to the police," I said and he looked up at me and dipped his forehead. "If either of you fuck this up, I'll find you and I will make you suffer."

"I got this," Sean expressed. "I'll make sure he does it."

As I leaned in close to Gould he shied away. "We were never here," I hissed and he nodded.

"Take her and get out of here," he finally said, nodding toward the spider. "Or they'll arrest you too."

Sean and I wrapped the eiderdown around her bloodied limbs, carried her out and propped her in the passenger seat of the Jeep. I clipped her seatbelt and climbed behind the wheel as he passed me my bag.

I scrawled a number onto the inside of his left forearm, told him memorize it. "This line is secure. After they've taken you through questioning and processing, you'll have a better understanding of what's going to happen to you. If you are in a position to get a private call, ring it, I want an explanation of what they've got. Will you do that? Wait a minimum of seventy two hours before you call. Never use the names Bea or Allie. Now go untie him before the cops get here."

"I'm sorry," Sean said through the driver's window one last time. "I'll do everything possible, Carmel will be taken care of, I swear."

I didn't answer, couldn't. I started the car and eased from the driveway. From Carmel. It was out of my hands. Allie had to take precedence for me now.

As I wound through Briggs, making my way back to the lake house mindlessly, a single police cruiser, lights flashing, but no siren, turned from the town center and disappeared northward behind me. They would reach Plimmerton Street in approximately seven minutes.

Chapter Ten

Aftermath

For the following three hours, I fought hard to keep a lid on my emotions. With logical structure, I prepared to flee Briggs, screaming inside.

When I pulled back into the double garage beside the Lexus, all I wanted to do was sit, sobbing at the wheel, but I didn't. Allie may have been light as air but it was still a battle for me to transfer her to the other car on my own. Somehow I did it without hurting her; I lowered the passenger seat back so she wasn't slumped uncomfortably. I brought a wet towel, cleaned the worst of the blood from her hands, and changed her shirt. I was truly scared of what would happen when she woke up. I knew I'd be returning to New York with a version of Allie I had no idea if I'd be able to cope with.

As I removed all personal items from the Jeep and wiped any smudges from the upholstery, Guido wandered through the doorway, jumped into the Lexus's passenger seat and sniffed the spider over thoroughly.

When I came to look at him, he sat on her legs and tilted his head at me gruffly, as if accusing; I can smell my mom's blood, what's going on?

"She's not coming back now," I said. "And we have to go too. You stay and watch her, I won't be long."

I drove the Jeep to the Alta down the road, left it there and made the five minute walk back to the house, praying Allie didn't wake up while I was gone. I'd drop the keys to the outlet and screw whatever excuse I made up about car trouble. Laura was a goner anyway, once the rental keys were dropped in, I'd peel that nose off for the last time and an entirely new alter ego would need to be created.

I took down all the cameras and stashed our equipment into the Lexus while Guido watched from Allie's lap. It didn't matter that I couldn't hold my tears in while repacking Carmel's bags; crying didn't impede my actions. I did a final walk through of the house before locking up and leaving the driveway for the last time.

My brain barely registered the process of returning the rental keys, taking Laura off and bringing the house keys to the estate agent with a hasty excuse and assurance I'd cover any damages discovered.

There was no temptation to drive past Boltbridge Road or Plimmerton Street as I left Briggs; I was numb to any previous concerns. It had gone so very wrong; all I could see was Carmel's smile at the breakfast table. All I could hear were her words in the basement, You're the same temperament as me, you'll have to pick up the slack.

"It doesn't make sense," I began talking quietly to Guido. "I'm not the same temperament as her, she had too many things I'm missing. She had confidence, she had humor. She'd probably be cracking a joke right now. And as ridiculous as the timing was, it would be funny. How could she do this to me? Leave us like this?" I was rambling, on the precipice of sanity. "Allie won't accept it, she won't be able to get past it. Dammit! Fuck, your mom was a selfish asshole!" I yelled, choking on my own words.

I began weeping, soaking clumps of tissue as I tried to keep my eyes clear enough to see the road. Because Carmel wasn't selfish or an asshole. And why did I suddenly feel this uncontrollable urge to swear?

I went over the events meticulously, connecting dots, piecing it together. The fears I'd had about how our night with Gould would end hadn't finished with this. I was guilty of naivety and the same self-absorption Carmel believed she suffered from. I should have placed cameras, should have kept watch. We should have forced Gould to the lake house at gun point and carried the plan out there.

What it boiled down to was only a twenty minute time-span tops. From staring at those stupid certifications on the wall and discussing Health Boards, to bundling Allie's limp body into the Jeep.

Carmel had heard the unknown assailant before any of us and moved before she even confirmed who or what it was. Instead of going for the gun she'd left sitting further away on the table, she stepped instinctively in front of Allie. Between her and the doorway. Carmel's role with Allie was clearly defined - protector, always. Until she couldn't anymore. The life of an entire beautiful person, over within seconds.

Her heart had stopped Allie's death in a literal sense, but the emotional significance resonated louder.

"Jesus," I sobbed and glanced over at Allie. Guido stared back at me, waiting for me to continue. I reached down and stroked his soft little head. "I'm sorry. Don't listen to me, I don't know what's going to happen. I'm scared, but I'll try, that's all I can do. Try."

It was almost one pm before a poached glance to the passenger side revealed Allie was awake; her eyes open, widely staring at the cloudy sky through the window. It had been at least twenty minutes since I last checked; how long had been staring that way?

"Allie," I prodded softly. Please don't freak out.

She adjusted her seat into sitting position and Guido stepped carefully from her lap, over the center console and I saw him curl into one of Carmel's coats on the backseat. I blinked back my tears and did the only thing I could, I continued talking to her gently, explaining what we were doing, where we were going, asking her to be strong. Her eyes stayed open, directed out the window, but they were dead, and she refused to respond to me. It took less than thirty seconds after I ran out of things to say before she reached for the radio controls, clicking through pop music and talk shows. She stopped at Mike Posner's, I Took A Pill in Ibiza and cranked the volume to an ear-splitting level. I turned it down marginally, mumbling something about Guido; she didn't argue. It felt completely left-field but I wasn't going to deny her anything. Assuming she was in shock, I silently thanked whatever forces were out there that she wasn't attacking me or trying to jump from the car.

When I bought her food and drink, she left it untouched.

*

It takes approximately twenty six hours to drive from Colorado to New York. I did it in two sittings.

At three am on Saturday the 23rd November, I stopped at a motel just across the state line into Kansas and walked her inside, lay her down. I don't know if she slept, she was awake when I woke up. Staring dead-pan at the curtains. At least she was still there. Under gentle urging she consumed a small amount of breakfast.

She wouldn't look at me, didn't appear to focus on anything and I didn't press her to talk. She was eating and she was with me, and for now, that was more than I'd expected.

In the early hours of Sunday morning, I pulled up outside the gate to the house at St Luke's, checked over the security cameras from my phone and drove inside.

She slept then, for close on 24 hours. She slept in my bed in the basement and I stayed with her. I kept the television on a low or muted volume and watched as reports began to leak and take shape about human experimental subjects being discovered in Colorado, about a warrant for Frederick Scholz's arrest. About Belen Abreu being found shot dead at the residence of one of the doctors involved. It wasn't victorious; just a small trickle of relief that Sean had kept his word. Every time I saw her photo displayed on the screen tears sprung into my eyes and I couldn't concentrate on what was being said. It would take a lot longer for me, for anyone, to realize the enormity of what we'd achieved. And all the while, I stayed close to Allie, persisting in her silence, eating only tiny amounts when I encouraged her. She slept, and I had no visions, no dreams.

Guido avoided her touch, he lay on the other side of me always. As if he needed me as a barrier, a buffer for her pain. He couldn't take it, he was small and unaccustomed, but he wanted to be with us.

At nine pm on Monday night, Laura's phone began to vibrate with an unknown number. I watched it for long moments, wondering if I had the strength to speak, to hear what was being said. But Laura's phone didn't have voice mail, and eventually I picked it up and slipped out to the main basement area.

I fingered accept and pressed the phone to my ear, waiting.

"Hello?" Sean's voice came through, small and anxious. "Bea? Are you there?"

"I'm here." I sounded stronger than I felt, but it wouldn't last. "Are you alone?"

"Yes. I'm out on bail, in the custody-"

"Sean, I don't give a shit about your legal status."

"Right. Facts." He inhaled deeply. "Have you been watching the news?"

"I want to hear it from you."

"They've recovered five patients from Boltbridge Road. They're holding them for questioning and psychiatric assessments at a medical center in Colorado Springs, but they're safe. Six researchers and two security guards are being detained in connection. And that's not including me or Emily Mercer. They have nothing on us without Allie's records," he said almost apologetically. He lowered his voice. "But this goes deeper, there are things they haven't released to media yet. Based on what Dr. Gould told them, a second location has been discovered in Washington, with more patients. I don't know the details, only what they revealed in their questions to me. All I could do was say I didn't know about it."

"Do any of these subjects... Are they like Allie?"

"I've heard no mention of anything like that. I think some of the Washington patients are in pretty bad shape, but I don't know anything for sure."

"Are you getting any vibes the feds might be interested in keeping this under wraps?"

"No. They're angry, they're pissed, Bea. They weren't shy about pushing me around during questioning. They knew I was hiding something, but since they didn't know the right questions to ask, lying wasn't difficult. My priority is still to protect Allie. Is she safe?"

I ignored the question. "What about Scholz?"

"He's gone into hiding, he's a wanted man. They seem sure he hasn't left the country, I don't know how. But when they find him, he's going down. They have records on illegal procedures, video and audio tapes and I think the other researchers are starting to talk now too."

"No file on Allie?"

He hesitated. "Dr. Gould told me, before the police arrived, Scholz kept Allie's information for himself, there would be no trace of her with him or at the lab. Scholz was pedantic about that. I didn't know if he was telling the truth at the time but maybe he was. I can't say if they've got records on you either, or any other past patients. They don't tell me things." I could hear he wanted to ask about my experience but didn't.

"And neither of you have mentioned me or Allie?"

"I haven't, and I doubt Dr. Gould has either. They know there's more to it, they keep asking me the same questions about how Belen Abreu got mixed up in this, how she managed to find out and convince us to come forward."

"And? What did you say?"

"I said... I said I fell in love with her, I did it because I wanted her to love me back. It was the only thing I could think of; love is outrageous enough to make someone want to turn their life around, isn't it?" he said rapidly and fearfully.

"Okay. Stick with that," I replied, listless.

"But listen, they know someone else was at the house. They have an eye witness who saw the car leave, probably the same neighbor who phoned in the noise. They won't have seen us putting her in the passenger side, the car port is too sheltered, but they might have glimpsed you through the window as you drove away and they'll probably have the number plate. I told them, if there was another car there, I didn't see it, I was trying to revive Carmel."

"What about the man who shot her?"

"His name was Keegan Molaro, discharged from the army six years ago. They believe Scholz hired him and I haven't said otherwise. I haven't spoken to Dr. Gould since that morning, but based on what the feds are saying, he's not providing them with any explanations, only facts and then only the ones he wants to. But it's good, right? He's given them a second location, more patients. I had no idea they had more."

"Are you being charged with murder?"

"Voluntary manslaughter, but it won't stick; it was justifiable homicide. I freaked out when the cops arrived at the house, crying and screaming over Carmel. It's what made me think they'd buy the love thing. She's being taken care of but they'll be doing an autopsy. It's really early days, do you want me to ring again when I know more?"

Tears brimmed in my eyes again and my voice broke as I said, "No. Thank you for calling," and hung up.

Back in the bedroom, I lay against Allie and cried into her back. She didn't stir; I questioned if it would ever end.

I opened my eyes, still sore from crying, in the dead of night later, and found Allie awake, staring at me, unblinking in the dim light from the muted TV screen.

"Hey. You okay?" It was a stupid question. I didn't expect her to answer, was surprised to hear her tiny voice.

"I was going to ask her to marry me."

I blinked and tried to keep my tone stable. "She would have said yes."

"No. She would have said no. But she wouldn't have meant it."

"She had trouble with truth sometimes."

"I liked it." There was a moment of silence before she whispered, "It should have been me. It was supposed to be me."

"Please don't say that."

"Just tell me it's a mistake, Bea. A nightmare. She's going to walk through the door and laugh any minute now."

"I can't."

"I knew. I knew ever since the start I'd lose her. Why couldn't we have just run? Hidden? As long as I had Saf, none of this would have mattered. Nothing matters now. Not one thing."

"I'm so sorry."

"Where is she? Her body?"

I hesitated, but eventually spoke. "The police have her. They'll do an autopsy, recreate the scene to prove what happened and who shot her. Then her body will be returned to Mexico with her father. She'll have a funeral. They'll either cremate or bury her."

It was my face streaked with tears, my voice barely audible. Allie was a blank, dead inside. She turned over and went silent but clasped my arm tightly around her. There was nothing I could say, I just moved closer and listened to her breathing until I fell back to sleep. I didn't realize it at the time because rational thought was numbed, but I'd assumed Carmel's place, I was absorbing Allie's pain. An understanding that would provide no comfort in the coming months.

*

I knew as soon as I woke up, she was gone. I felt her absence, as strongly as I felt Carmel's. I was alone again.

She'd left everything; ID, devices, valuables, luggage, even Guido, in the kitchen and demanding his breakfast. From what I could tell, she'd taken only a backpack, few items of clothing and her stuffed bear.

I sat on the kitchen floor, watching Guido eat with gusto, stroking his back.

"At least you're okay," I said quietly.

Leaning against the counter, I shut my eyes and concentrated on Allie, my memories of her face, her feelings, her movements, her words. I would continue this method for weeks to come, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't see her. She was lost to me, to my subconscious. Possibly to herself.

Interspersed with my attempts at visualizing her, I began concentrating on the news reports, began to ingest information as the story took on a life of its own.

Two nights after Allie disappeared, I watched this over dinner:

"We have Dr. Ezra Elburn from the National Bioethics Advisory Commission and FBI's Public Corruption Unit spokesperson, Donna Morris, here with us today, to shed some insight and help us come to terms with these shocking developments. Dr. Elburn, this case is anomalous in the twenty first century, is it not? That this was able to happen in these times of strict medical protocol. What is the response of the scientific community?"

"Not unlike the response of the rest of the world, Penelope, complete outrage. This case will continue to leave a shameful black mark against the medical field forever, its ramifications will be far-reaching and extreme. Changes in legislature are already being discussed, but the unfortunate fact is that this is the result of blatant disregard and avoidance of regulations already in place. The full story of how this was able to continue for so long with so many people involved is still evolving, and I don't want to place blame here. This is the fault of every person in the medical field, every person indirectly involved, every person who might have had a suspicion and didn't act on it. What I can say for sure is, it was only a matter of time before the kind activities we're talking about here were brought out in the open and I have absolute respect for the young lady who initiated its exposure and was killed in the process. That it took someone not even in the medical community to have the courage to act is something many people will be shaking their heads about, including myself."

"Now, this is an interesting aspect I think much of the nation are looking for answers about. We understand missing Mexican soap star Belen Abreu was killed in the process of convincing two of the researchers involved to come forward and confess to their crimes. What information can you provide us about that, Miss Morris?"

"As Dr. Elburn pointed out, this is an evolving investigation and there is a lot of work to be done in piecing how it came together. We have a narrow understanding of Miss Abreu's activities after her disappearance at the end of October. The details of how she stumbled over covert information and how she managed to convince two key participants to come forward are still very unclear. However, agency consensus agrees with Dr. Elburn's previous statement, the two men who provided the information leading to the non-consensual subjects were eaten up by guilt - I'm not sure they required much prodding in order to confess. I would also agree that however it occurred, Miss Abreu died in the process of exposing illegal activity that had resulted in deaths and would have resulted in more had she not. Her conduct led to the liberation of nineteen prisoners from a terrible ordeal, some of whom are still unable to speak about it, and some of whom suffer permanent physical damage from illegal medical procedures."

"These are unprecedented human rights violations. I think a big question on everyone's mind is, will Frederick Scholz be found and held responsible for his crimes?"

"Behind his generous public persona, a picture is surfacing of Frederick Scholz as a sociopath of the worst kind. One who used his money and status to arbitrarily circumvent not only law, but the most basic standards of human decency. He will be held accountable for his actions, as will every person who partook in them."

Two days after Allie's disappearance;

"Various friends' of Belen Abreu have come forward suggesting another girl may have been involved in this. What insights can you offer about that?"

"None, I'm afraid. We know they left her mother's house together and neither were seen since. When her body was recovered, there was no indication of this girls' presence. It's possible they parted ways soon after leaving Montana, but the other girl was never found and agents are still uncertain of her actual identity."

"But isn't it true there's speculation she may have been an escaped test subject?"

"Speculation being the operative word. People are searching for an explanation for how Miss Abreu got tangled at the center of such a controversy and they've decided to focus on a girl who may or may not real."

Photos of Lark from flyers circulated on the more obscure news sites, around the periphery of formal commentary and reports. Officials were not displaying them or advertising her as a person-of-interest, instead openly implying she may not even exist.

One week after Allie's disappearance;

"The nationwide manhunt for billionaire Frederick Scholz ended this morning when his body was discovered in a burnt out cabin near Bismarck, North Dakota. Federal agents say he died of a gunshot wound to the head, most likely self-inflicted after he set alight to his surroundings. His body was positively identified using both dental records and DNA. The disgraced philanthropist was responsible for funding illegal procedures on patients, imprisonment of human subjects over prolonged periods, and at least six accounted-for deaths in the past seven years. The public response has been mixed, many would have liked to see this man charged and punished to the full extent of the law for his crimes, others will say only this - good riddance."

My mind was disordered; I had misgivings about the legitimacy of Scholz's death. I also thought the bullet in the head and subsequent fire sounded startlingly similar to my vision of the helicopter crash, and wondered if Allie had been getting her hands dirty again. I couldn't imagine how she might have accomplished such a feat but part of me hoped she had - at least it meant she was still alive, still functional. At the same time, I searched continuously for reports of unidentified bodies, suicides or even unusual activity, assuming she would show up dead. Another side to me didn't care, was furious she'd left; I couldn't keep my promise and didn't want to think about how bad things were for her. As always, anger was easier than sorrow.

In the terrible aftermath, there was no room to question her about what she might have seen in Gould's head during those minutes before hell broke loose. I no longer cared anyway. He'd alerted police to other subjects, which counted for something. My past meant nothing to me now; I hovered in alternate pain and emptiness.

Information provided about the nineteen rescued patients wasn't detailed but I could gather they were not like Allie or I. Some suffered amnesia, trauma, damage from experimental medications and surgery. Seven had tumors they would eventually die from.

Scattered speculation about another car being present that morning dwindled into outright denial by authorities, they discredited the eye-witness statements and I wondered at their motives. The photos of Lark too, gradually faded from websites. Perhaps they knew full well about us, about me. Or maybe they needed to save face by eschewing their ignorance.

But no one knocked, no one came for me; Bea was left to her peaceful anguish. I thought about selling the house and leaving Bea behind for good, but something stopped me. Perhaps the hope Allie would come back persisted. So I stayed in St Luke's, Guido my sole confidante to snail-pace waning woes.

I slipped back into a regimented life. Regimented lie. Underneath, I retreated into a fantasy world; my visions to the past became an addiction and my remaining enemy.

I returned to the morning before Gould's conditioning. We'd slept late during those two days. The kitchen at the lake-house in Colorado was bright with sun, the scent of pine drifted through an open window and the lake lapped fifty feet from the back porch. As always, my throat constricted when I saw Carmel sitting across the table.

"You seem a bit down," she remarked placidly to the past version of me. "I'm sorry we didn't find anything out about you. We'll get there, Gould will know."

"It's not that."

"What is it?"

"I expected this to take a lot longer," I shrugged.

"You want to drag it out? I thought you'd be ecstatic it's going our way."

"I feel like once this is over and you have your passports, you'll disappear on me," I said glumly, poking at my cereal. "I'll be alone again. It's stupid."

"You'll never get rid of Allie now," she snorted. "Little witch loves you."

"It's true," Allie entered the kitchen behind me and wrapped her arms around my neck. "The little witch does love you." At her touch I felt reassurance, she had no intention of abandoning me, regardless of how this turned out.

If only she'd known. If only I'd known.

I remembered how I'd felt then, cheered up immediately as she moved away and Carmel smiled and shook her head at me.

"Under the icy facade, huh," she muttered and returned her eyes to the tablet.

Everything was so perfect that morning; I revisited the scene often during those sad months, along with many others, wishing I could go back and freeze time. Or change it. If only my ability had involved manipulation of the space-time continuum. My sight couldn't help me now. All it could do was refresh the pain, stop me from moving on.

I had wanted to die before, but never like this. I'd spent less than two months with Allie and Carmel but had experienced more joy than in all five years of my memory. The agony of having something beautiful within reach only to lose it.

As the smoke began to clear and both the story and the mystery took a more solid shape, Belen Abreu was emerging a hero. The controversy became an international discussion. A popular biographer welcomed the job of writing her life story and people across the world, previously unaware of her existence, became fans; her ratings went through the roof. She would have been irritated; I could imagine her cynical laugh had she heard about it. Because in the end what she did was step reflexively in front of the person she loved. She would have labelled it a selfish act herself. But she was never very good at looking at the big picture.

Carmel's memory card, which I'd placed in a drawer in the basement became too difficult to resist. I began to read her story, and write this one. Maybe it was an intrusion, but it was all I had now.

A week became a month, three months, unexpected knock-on effects came to light. An oncologist in the south of China, stepped up, providing information leading to the discovery of an outpost location with seventy three trafficked non-consensual subjects enduring far more brutal conditions and procedures. He cited the recent events in America as his prompt for coming forward.

When I saw the video footage of these patients, I cried tears for something other than Carmel for the first time in months. And I began to think, maybe it was worth it. Carmel would think so. In a year of lost hope, it shone as a rare beacon, allowed me to hold on.

We hadn't known. We didn't have a clue what we were doing.

*

The first year anniversary of Carmel's death arrived and dug up buried grief. The day after found me standing in a park in St Luke's. On my suggestion, CVS had erected a plaque two months ago, between tall evergreens. Dedicated to Belen Abreu, in memoriam for her service to patient rights. Various do-gooders had left flowers and candles yesterday, but this afternoon, I had the spot to myself.

I placed a single white rose, petals blushing with the faintest pink, at its base and stared, Carmel's beautiful face always in my mind. Memories. Words. Love.

A presence drew up beside me and I tried to ignore it.

"You martyred her," a voice said. A husky voice I knew so well. My breath caught in my throat, I froze and the rest of the world fell from existence around me; zombie mode deactivated immediately. "You did it all without me. I know you loved her too, but you were strong."

"You can blame that on the natural predilection of the publicity machine," I scoffed then added, "And Sean. I still keep contact with him." My voice was steady, not at all how I felt.

"How is he?"

"Better than he's ever been. He worries about you, always asks if I've heard anything."

"Told you I could fix him."

I turned to face her and she pulled the hood from her head. She looked so beautiful, no make-up, no contacts, just Allie. Wearing jeans, trainers, a woolen hoodie and backpack.

"We never found out who we were," she said, meeting my gaze with unblinking eyes. "We never found any others."

"We found others."

"You know what I mean."

"I spoke to Gould two months ago," I frowned.

"You visited him?"

"As Miriam Prendergast, a sixty year old journalist from Arkansas. He's repentant, he's accepted he'll spend the rest of his life in prison. But to this day he refuses to reveal anything about our backgrounds. All he says is, we don't want to know."

"It's not his decision to make."

"Be that as it may, he won't talk and I haven't been able to see anything. I think it's his last ditch attempt to save us pain and my subconscious feels the same. Do you want to know?"

"Maybe not," she sighed. "Do you think it's just us?"

"I'm always watching for anything out of the ordinary." I studied her, my emotions bursting. "You have no idea..." I couldn't finish.

"I have some idea," she said with a smile.

"I really wish you hadn't left."

"I had to grow up, Bea. But I'm sorry I left you alone the way I did."

"You should be, you shit; I thought you were dead."

"I know what you were doing, taking my pain."

"I promised her I'd look after you."

"She knew too then. But I needed my pain, I had to learn how to live. I can control it better now, I can be here for you. I can be a friend, if you'll have me." She touched her hand to her chest. "She's in here, I can feel her. She's a part of me now."

I nodded, tears forming. She was different, the way she spoke, the way she moved. There was a serenity in her eyes, the eyes that used to be so wild.

"I can't believe you're here." I moved forward and wrapped my arms around her, held her close, if only to confirm she was real. Still thin under her thick clothing, her solidity was nonetheless encouraging.

"I've missed you," she said after a minute and I stepped back, but kept grip on her arms. I wasn't going to let her slip away again.

"Where have you been?"

"At first, Hell. I didn't think I'd make it. For a long time, everywhere I went, I saw Saf. It was my fault what happened. You tried to tell me to be patient, if only I'd listened." She shook her head. "When I held her that morning, I felt something, the instant before she disappeared completely. She wasn't afraid, she knew it was over, but she wasn't scared." A tear slipped down her cheek and I reached up to wipe it away.

"She was the coolest person I ever had the pleasure of knowing," I said and she nodded.

"Then I came across someone I could help," she continued. "Living with myself became a little easier. She would have done it, if she could. So I found someone else to help, and I came back to life more."

I laughed through my tears. "You found your calling."

"She considered me a worthy life to save, I have to make it true. Every day I have to make it true. How's Guido?"

"He's good. Great. Loves his baths, doesn't he? He misses you." And Carmel, I added silently.

"I hope so, because he's stuck with me from here on."

"You want to take him?"

My face fell. The cat was the only thing that had kept me alive for the past year.

"I'd never do that. Come sit for a minute." She draped her arm across my shoulders and pulled me toward the bench a few yards away. "Two weeks ago I was in Savage Falls," she continued. "I wanted to see the doctor who was so good to Saf."

"Did you talk to him?" I felt an old surge of panic at the idea.

"I went, I found him one evening. He was eating dinner at a restaurant with his wife, it must have been a special occasion. I watched them through the windows, they looked so happy and I knew I couldn't disturb them. Just as I was about to turn away and leave, he looked right at me. I had a hat on but he recognized me anyway. He stared, like he'd seen a ghost then rushed to the door and came outside. I hid," she said sheepishly. "I hid and he scanned the streets for me, calling out the name Lark. Eventually he went back inside, shaking his head and muttering to himself."

"Poor guy," I chuckled. "He'll be creeped out for years after that."

"It wasn't my intention... But yeah, probably," she acknowledged. "Before Savage Falls, I went to Mexico to find her father. It was cathartic, searching out her past. But I got the impression the doctor was more of a father figure to her, that's how I ended up back in Montana."

"Did you meet the dad?" I asked and she shook her head, eyes wide. The wildness still lurked.

"He was with a teenager. He's at least fifty and he was with a girl younger than his daughter, squeezing her butt." Her nose wrinkled in distaste; I laughed.

"I saw him in an interview a few months back, sniveling and at the same time tooting his own horn about what a wonderful father he was to have raised her. Riding the wave, so to speak."

"I decided I didn't want to meet him." A mischievous look entered her eyes and I raised a brow as she pulled the backpack from her shoulders and unzipped it. "So, I went to the columbarium where they put her." She removed an object from the bag. An urn.

"You didn't!"

"I did," she said solemnly. "They call it desecration of a grave site."

"I don't know about that, I think they call it plain theft."

"But I was careful, no one found out. Yet anyway," she grinned.

I took the urn from her and examined it reverentially.

"It should be us who decides what happens to her," she went on, "the people she chose to be with. The people who loved her for what she was, not what she pretended to be."

"Thank God she was cremated," I said, picturing Allie smuggling a body across the border in the dead of night. "What do you want to do with her?"

She pushed the urn back into her pack. "She's not really in there, I just didn't want them to have the privilege of her remains. We'll find a good spot for her while we decide; maybe between the AK's and RPG launchers, that would tickle her. Can I come stay with you? I need your help." The question was extended seamlessly, without changing her tone; my heart skipped a beat.

"Yes," I stuttered. "Of course. You need me?" I asked doubtfully.

"I do. As you can see," she tapped the backpack, "I'm still reckless. I knew after Montana it was time to return to your temperance. Plus, on the way, I found someone who needs both of us."

"Who?"

"A boy," a shadow crossed her eyes. "He shows me his beautiful side, but his dark side is closed off. You can access things I can't with your sight. Would you help me? He's worth it."

"Jesus." I wiped my wet cheeks. "Are you going to start listening to me?"

"I'll listen," she smiled and I glanced at the backpack.

"Where's the rest of your stuff?"

"I have my toothbrush, my bear, and Saf; it's all I've needed for a year. The rest came and went with the tide."

I nodded slowly, studying her with a mild smile.

"Tell me about the boy."

"Take me to see Guido and I will."

"The wicked web catches a new victim." I shook my head and stood up. "Hurry up then, it's cold."

"Good. We're two of a kind, you and me, we'll change the world one person at a time."

"There's something I'm curious about; did you have anything to do with Scholz's death?" I asked as we walked from the park. Allie laughed.

*

Questions and comments email mcallumsasha@gmail.com

Other titles by Sasha McCallum

Tinderbox

Pretty Ugly Place

Said the Spider

Daughter of Night

The Arrangement

The Lake

There Will Be Blood

The Reader & the Writer

Bathrooms & Psychiatric Offices

