Part 23 (2/2)
”Yes, I caught that part. I already know he's an a.s.shole, but specifically specifically.”
Lucius was enraged. ”Half our patients wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for this man and the others like him. The MCB intimidates witnesses and survivors. They murder anybody who dares spill the beans about their little secret. Monster victims need love, and support, and therapy, so they can return to their lives. But the MCB takes survivors and punishes them instead.”
Joan cut in. ”The last thing these people need is for their own government to come along and tell them they're insane, that they imagined the whole thing, or if there's any forensic evidence, they cajole the victims into silence. Do you have any idea what kind of damage that does to people?”
”It's like locking up a rape victim because she might make the town look bad!” Lucius sputtered. ”It's preposterous. It's absurd!”
”It's policy,” Franks answered.
”That didn't work at Nuremburg and it won't work for you,” Joan spat. ”I may not know everything, Agent Franks, but one thing I do know for certain is that you're going to burn in h.e.l.l.”
Franks nodded, ever so slightly. ”Been there. It's overrated.”
”Enough,” I said. ”Lucius, Joan, please. I know this sucks, but we really need your help. I need to speak with somebody in your care. I'm stuck with Franks.”
”It's really serious,” Holly said apologetically. ”We wouldn't ever had brought him if we had realized.”
Joan shook her head. ”I know you didn't realize what you were doing, because you're far smarter than that, Holly. I have patients inside, patients whose loved ones this this man has actually murdered. I took an oath not to do any harm. I can't let him inside my facility.” She was adamant. man has actually murdered. I took an oath not to do any harm. I can't let him inside my facility.” She was adamant.
This was getting nowhere, and I had to get to Carlos. ”Franks, I need you to stay in the car.”
”No.”
I knew better than to waste my time arguing with him. Cutting down a redwood tree with my teeth would be more productive, and probably faster. ”Doctor, please, we'll go fast. Your patients will never even know we're here.”
”He's not coming in here without a warrant,” Lucius stated.
”I don't need a warrant,” Franks responded.
”Why you rotten-”
”Okay!” Holly jumped in. ”How about this? While we're sitting out here making a scene, some of these patients you're worried about are going to come and see what's going on, and they're going to see this sc.u.mbag,” she jerked her thumb at Franks, ”and they're going to freak out. So how about we go someplace else, with no witnesses, and you bring out the one patient we need to speak to? Everybody's happy.”
The Nelsons looked at each other, obviously not happy.
”It isn't to help the government,” I said. ”It's to help me, personally. A Hunter named Martin Hood has returned from the grave. He's already tried to kill my entire family and he will not stop until he gets me too.”
That confused them. ”Marty?” Lucius said. ”Marty Hood? There's no way. He was one of the good ones. He was a great kid. You must be mistaken.”
”Well, that's what we need to find out. This might be for nothing, but I have to know the truth. Please help me.”
Joan sighed, exchanging glances with her husband. Lucius adjusted his mighty suspenders. They had been married for forty-plus years, and had reached that point where a lot of communication was unspoken. Lucius responded for them both. ”Very well, Owen. We'll bring the patient outside. Whom do you need to speak to?”
”Carlos Alhambra.”
Joan crossed her arms. ”Then I'm afraid you're wasting your time. Carlos hasn't spoken to anyone in decades.”
”He'll speak to me.”
The spot that the Nelsons picked for our use was a gazebo on the far side of the lawn. None of the patients would be outside this early, and if any patients were at the windows, we would be far enough from the building that they wouldn't get a clear look at us. Franks would be just a random big dude in a bad suit, not the man who personally murdered their fellow survivors who couldn't keep their mouths shut.
A morning mist was rising from Alabama River. Separating it from us was a wrought iron fence. Most of the patients at Appleton were here voluntarily, but there were a few who weren't, and there were others screwed up enough to decide that the river was a great place to take a header into. Tall trees, draped in Spanish moss, surrounded us. It was actually a very peaceful moment and I took the time to savor it, because what was coming next was probably going to suck.
”So, how have you been?” Lucius Nelson asked.
”Other than the whole death cult thing, pretty good actually.” The two of us were sitting on a bench inside the gazebo. Franks was wandering through the trees, probably checking the perimeter. Holly was fifty feet away, throwing rocks over the fence into the river to watch them splash. Joan had left to retrieve Carlos, and Trip had gone with her. ”You guys are coming to the wedding, right?”
”Yes, yes, of course. I've known Julie since she was a baby. We wouldn't miss it for the world. We're rather fond of her, you know. And I would probably be dead if it weren't for you.”
That was embarra.s.sing and I felt that it was mostly untrue. ”I didn't do anything that any Hunter wouldn't have done.”
”Exactly,” he smiled, then gestured toward Holly. ”And how has she been? We haven't seen her in months.”
”Holly? Well, as far as I know, she's okay...I didn't know she was getting professional help. I know you probably can't talk about it, doctor-patient privilege, and all that, but if there's ever anything that I can do to help her, just let me know. She's my teammate and my friend, and finding out that she's still hurting, still needing help...is just terrible,” I said truthfully. ”Though after what she went through, who could blame her?” I added quickly, not wanting to offend the good doctor over the importance of his counseling.
He laughed. ”Getting help? Son, she is is the help.” the help.”
”Huh?”
”That young lady is a volunteer on her days off. She comes in and helps out with the patients, visits, listens to them talk, plays Ping-Pong and checkers. She's especially good with the little children. She's wonderful, really brightens everyone's day, and we've been sad that she's been too busy lately, but such is the life of a Hunter. She understands these people, and they love her for it.”
”Holly? Really?” That was a new one on me. It sure didn't fit the image that she tried to cultivate. I wondered why she never told us.
”Oh, here they come,” Lucius pointed back toward the asylum. Joan was leading the way, and Trip was pus.h.i.+ng someone in a wheelchair. ”Now don't be disappointed when this doesn't work. If Carlos actually communicates I'll be absolutely shocked. He's been in a total stupor for decades.”
”How bad is it?”
Lucius shook his head. ”In layman's terms, he's checked out, toasted, brain turned off, a borderline vegetable. All he has done for years now is hum simple children's songs. Carlos was one of the smartest, bravest men I've ever known. I was proud to consider him a friend. And then one day, this happened. No medical explanation for it, no brain damage, no serious physical trauma, nothing.”
”No idea what caused this?”
”No. He went on a mission, but only his body came back. I don't...I...” He lifted his gla.s.ses and wiped under his eyes. ”Sorry.”
”I understand.”
Trip pushed the wheelchair up the ramp and into the gazebo. Carlos was wearing a red bathrobe over a white gown. He was frail, with atrophied muscles, hands so thin that you could see bones through the papery skin, and hair that was buzzed short on his pale skull, probably for ease of maintenance by the staff. His head was lolling slowly from side to side as he stared at his lap. He was humming but I did not recognize the tune.
Doctor Joan took a cloth from the back of the chair and wiped the drool from his chin. His blank eyes gave no indication that he was aware of any of this. I got off the bench and squatted in front of the wheelchair.
”h.e.l.lo, Carlos. My name's Owen Pitt. I'm a Hunter too. We need to talk.” No response, obviously. ”I need to talk to you about Martin Hood. I believe that he's the one who did this to you and I need your help.”
”I don't think he can even hear you, dear,” Joan suggested gently. ”He's shown zero reaction to stimuli since he's been here. We've run every test you can think of.”
I reached out my hand to touch his, but hesitated. I had talked about ripping the memories right out of his head, but now that I was in his presence, I didn't feel so confident in my rightness. It seemed awkward and invasive. This was a man, a fellow Hunter, and I had no clue what I was doing.
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