Flowertown (22 page)

“What are the odds of two dangerous psychos like Martha and me getting jobs in the same office?”

Bing laughed and rubbed her back. “Maybe they thought they could bore you into submission.”

Ellie drew her head back from Bing's chest. “But you know, really, what
are
the odds? Isn't that weird? It was supposed to be a secure facility, and they put two people who are supposed to be so dangerous in the same space?”

“Don't start down that road, Ellie. The situation is weird enough without getting paranoid.” Bing stepped away. “You were assigned that job after the BTM scale was assigned, but
Martha was probably there from the beginning. It's just a coincidence.”

Ellie nodded, unconvinced. “It's kind of hard not to get paranoid, though. If Feno brought in a team of psychiatrists to profile us, they obviously put some stock in that sort of thing. And the records office was the only classified building to blow up. The other places were all storage facilities. I can't help but wonder if whoever set the bomb might have known about my and Martha's classification. You know, if they knew about the plan to have the H-sixes and H-sevens become violent.”

“If that's even the plan.” Bing took her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. “No offense to anyone in this room, but this is all a bunch of supposition. We have no proof there is any kind of plan.”

“But Olivia said the Horizon meds have psychotropic compounds to make us violent.”

“No, she said they think the meds have them.” He dropped his voice to speak to her alone. “Not to point out the obvious, but you were in lockdown before they even came up with Horizon. If those meds are doing anything, I think they're making you paranoid.”

“I wasn't being paranoid when they put a guard on me because they thought I was stealing classified files.”

“You did steal classified files.”

“Yeah, afterward.” Ellie dropped her gaze. She felt an odd sense of shame and embarrassment, as if the revelation of her medical class had revealed her to be unworthy. Everything she said sounded stupid and desperate to her ears. She couldn't stand what she saw in Bing's eyes. She pushed him away, hating how juvenile she sounded. “What difference
does it make to you? You're getting out of here on Saturday.”

“Ellie…”

Ellie walked away, relieved when Matt announced he had unscrambled the evening news feed. She joined Rachel and Annabeth before the big screen and waited for the headlines. The news program began with the usual serious drone and the flash of the logo, then the screen filled with an alert of a special bulletin. Annabeth shook her head.

“These are never good.”

The camera cut to the news anchor sitting at his desk. Behind him, a specially designed graphic flashed: PennCo Crisis.

“Do we have sound?” Rachel asked, and Matt nodded.

“It's going to take a second. It may not be all clear.”

Despite the broken audio track, they were able to piece together the gist of the anchor's story. He talked about something jeopardizing the announcement to be made Friday morning in Flowertown. The screen behind him cut to images of news crews from around the world assembling at the eastern gate of the containment area, awaiting clearance to set up in the clean rooms. The audio cleared enough to hear the news anchor deliver his lead.

“Our sources have just confirmed that the following video was sent from within the PennCo Containment Area to the security offices of Feno Chemical. The identity of the individual is being withheld until further investigation, but we are being told that the threat is being taken with utmost seriousness and that security forces are on high alert. They assure us that at this time the press conference will continue as scheduled, although no confirmation has been received
as to the exact reason for the conference.” The newsman softened his voice, succeeding in achieving that tone unique to news anchors, a perfect mix of sadness, authority, and enthusiasm. “Of course we are well aware of the rumors that have been growing on the Internet, as well as the hope that has lived in all of our hearts, that the announcement will pertain to the release of the many, many souls quarantined and isolated from their loved ones for so many years. Which makes this video, if it is indeed a viable threat, that much more terrible and tragic.”

The graphic behind the anchor grew to fill the screen. A brief test pattern flashed, then static, then the image faded in to a tight shot of enraged eyes. It took a moment for all of them watching to recognize the face as Ellie's. The shot was grainy and jumpy and the audio was unclear, so the television station ran a subscript beneath the image. Ellie didn't need to read it. She remembered every word. Her mouth fell open as she saw herself as the rest of the country would, crazed and dangerous. The words filled the space beneath the images.

“F**k you. F**k Feno. F**k Flowertown. I am going to get out of here. Count on it. I will get out of here if it means killing every last person.” The screen jumped as Ellie saw their edit to her tirade. “I don't care what it costs me. I don't care what happens afterward, but I will get out of here.” Static cut the image off and the camera shot returned to the anchor.

“Turn it off.”

Matt looked at his grandmother, who nodded. Ellie staggered backward until she let herself sit down on the floor, her legs splayed before her. Bing stood slack-jawed, his arms
hanging uselessly at his sides, staring at the blank screen. The rest of the room waited for one of them to say something.

Ellie could hardly make her mouth work. “That pin. Remember that pin Carpenter showed me? With the Feno logo? It must have had a camera in it. It must have. And that recorder.” She lay on her back, the floor cold and hard against her skin. She thought of her parents and her sisters and her nieces and nephews and friends seeing that video, seeing her so enraged and dangerous and saying those awful, terrifying things. “No wonder Carpenter laughed. He said he couldn't have written it any better himself.”

She was an H6. A bunch of stupid letters and numbers on the end of a medical tag she never read about medicines she took without question. And now she was a weapon.

She closed her eyes, unable to move. “Still think I'm paranoid, Bing?”

They left Ellie lying on the floor. She heard Bing whispering to them, no doubt telling them that it was probably best not to bother her. She had become one of “those people,” people who needed special handling. That wasn't exactly right, was it? She had returned to being one of those people, people who got locked up in small rooms with large pills. As Bing had so helpfully reminded her, she had been one of those people before Feno had ever started with the Horizon regimen. They didn't give her Horizon to make her crazy; they gave it to her because she was crazy. She was crazy and dangerous and they planned on using that for whatever plan they had laid. Ellie took a deep breath and felt the butt of the gun dig into her skin. Fuck that.

She sat straight up and uttered her thoughts aloud. “Fuck that.” Everyone in the room turned to her as she got to her feet and dusted herself off. “Feno thinks I'm so dangerous they can use me as some kind of weapon? Fuck that. We need a plan.”

Bing grinned. “There's my Ellie. I knew you wouldn't take this lying down.”

“Glad to have you on board.” Annabeth nodded to her. “Olivia gets off from the med center in about an hour. It looks like we're going to be up all night working out some details. Who wants chili?” Rachel laughed and Annabeth play-punched her arm. “Laugh all you want, little missy. An army runs on its stomach, and nobody can be brave and hungry. Bing, have you ever had my chili?”

“Yes ma'am.” Bing put his arm around Ellie. “It's Ellie's favorite.”

“Well, I know that. She buys it by the case, but you never come in my store.” Annabeth pointed her finger at him. “Don't bother lying about it. I know you shop at the Walmart even though they don't carry it.”

“I get my fix from Ellie.”

“Yeah, he steals it from me.” Ellie nudged him softly in his bruised ribs. “Don't bother trying to deny that either.”

Bing jerked his arm away from her to cradle his side. “I think we have some slightly more important things to worry about, don't you? I'll send you a case next week after I get the hell out of here.” Both Annabeth and Rachel stared at him with a look of shock, and he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “Sorry. That was shitty. I just…aw hell. Just ignore me. Let's get to what we need to do. What kind of evidence was Olivia talking about sneaking out?”

Annabeth spoke over her shoulder as she led them through a curtained door into another large room, this one lined with well-stocked shelves, huge vats of water, and a kitchenette. “She's not sure what we'll be able to get our hands on or even what it will prove. In the strictest sense, we don't know that Feno has done anything illegal or unethical. If we could find some sort of evidence of the death records
of those folks who were taken out, that would help, but it's going to be hard to prove they're not faked.”

“How can you say they haven't been unethical?” Ellie climbed up on a stool beside a high counter. “What about the Horizon drugs? What if they contain those mind-melting chemicals? Surely that would be evidence, right?”

Annabeth began opening a can of chili. “If we can prove it. We're going to need to get our hands on some of those pills and find a way to get them out of here. Plus Olivia says the pills alone won't be enough because Feno might be able to claim that the pills were manufactured illegally by locals as a recreational drug. We all know the lax policy about drugs in here, don't we, Bing?”

Bing shrugged, and Ellie interrupted his answer. “There's a big difference between baggies of pot and hard-core psychotropic chemicals. What else does she think we'll need?”

“The medical records of an H. At least, something with the dosing records. Olivia says the paper records keep track of what levels of the compounds were given. If we have a record of a dose and the pills to corroborate it, it might be damning enough.”

Rachel took the can opener from the old woman and helped open another can. “We can't use the records Ellie stole because Feno took them back. Plus they were before the Horizon meds were even given. Where would we find more records?”

Ellie thought of the stolen sheets she had torn out of the files in the care center. She was pretty certain they had been stuffed into the files Feno had confiscated. Still, she knew where the cabinet was. “Rachel, do you think you could get
back into the care center? There are a lot of files in there. Medical files. The clerk in there was complaining about having to refile them according to QEH.”

“I could go with you if you want, Rachel,” Bing said. “Maybe I could go in for treatment, you know, for my bruised ribs.” He shot Ellie a look that said he blamed her for them.

“We could try it.” Rachel dumped the chili into a large pot. “I could go to the back like I want to see everyone again to complain about not getting my pass and create a distraction so you can sneak back and steal some files.”

Annabeth held her hands up. “That's very brave of you, but why don't we wait until Olivia gets back and talk it over with her. She knows the med and care centers better than anyone, and she may already have a plan. I was hoping we'd get to talk with Nick tonight.”

“Nick Torrez?” Rachel asked.

Bing raised his eyebrows. “You know Nick Torrez? Big guy? With the scary tattoos?”

“Nick worked for my dad. Fixed our tractors.”

Annabeth began setting out bowls. “Nick works on the north wall maintaining the tamping drones now.”

“Really?” Ellie asked. “I just saw my first one the other day when I was at the Feno compound. I thought they never stopped, just rolled on and on.”

“No, they run circuits,” Rachel explained. “There are thirty-five altogether, fifteen on the field at all times and fifteen being refilled and refueled, and five as backups. Nick's one of the guys who gets them in and out of the gate.”

Annabeth grabbed a handful of spoons. “He said he's been called in to change the rotation of the drones. They
want the barrier at the east gate tamped and dried before dawn.”

“Did he say why?” Bing asked.

“He thinks it has something to do with the press conference in the morning. The convoy is coming in on the east barrier road. They don't want the tamping drones near the road. I guess they don't want the reporters to discuss the smell. Plus the CEO of Feno is coming in and he's probably allergic to the dust.”

Rachel snickered. “Poor little lamb.”

Bing rested his chin in his palm, chewing on a fingernail. “David Pattern is going to be here? Is he heading up the press conference? I thought he was persona non grata. After all, he was at the helm when Feno spilled HF-sixteen. He's been in exile for years.”

“Still on the payroll, though,” Annabeth said. “He's still the CEO, still gets the private jet and the big paycheck. I guess that kind of money takes the sting out of shame.”

“But if Barlay really has made a vaccine,” Bing said, tapping his lip with his finger, “I would think the CEO of Barlay Pharma would be here, not Feno. I would think their head honcho would be here to take the credit, or at least share the limelight.”

Ellie shook her head. “No, it makes sense. Feno is taking the fall for this, as they should. They're smart to distance themselves from Barlay Pharma right now. Barlay is on the brink of recouping a ton of money from the government. They don't want to be associated with Flowertown. They want people to see them as a separate and distinct entity, a solution to the problem that is Feno.”

Annabeth reached past Rachel for a ladle and then put her hand to the girl's head. “Honey, are you okay?”

Rachel had turned an unpleasant shade of pale. She fanned her face with her hands. “Maybe it's just the smell of chili. I think I really need some air.” Bing pulled out a chair for her to sit on as Matt stuck his head through the curtain.

“Grandma? Just got a message from Olivia. She says she's not getting out of the care center tonight. Something's going on, and she says whatever we're going to do, we've got to do it now. She says she's heard six of nine are out of play.”

Annabeth swore under her breath.

“What does that mean?” Ellie asked. “Six of nine are out of play?”

“We had nine people lined up who were willing and able to sneak evidence out if they were called with a clean bill of health,” Annabeth said. “Mostly folks who had gotten copies of their medical records or maybe had samples of old meds they hadn't finished. Any concrete evidence that suggests Feno and Barlay have been experimenting unethically.”

“You don't know for sure what they have?” Bing perked up, perched on the stool, birdlike.

“No, we thought it best to keep information separate, you know, not have anybody able to tell everything.” Annabeth stirred the chili, her mind elsewhere. “This way if anybody gets caught, they can't give away anyone else's identity.”

“But you know who the nine are?”

“No, Ellie, we've kept in touch with e-mails and drop points, messages in ‘the local.’ It just seemed safer that way.”

“Am I one of the nine,” Bing asked, “or am I a happy accident?”

Annabeth set a bowl of chili before him. “I christen you number ten.”

“So that makes four of us that you know of who can and will try to get evidence out. Since there are so few of us, maybe we should get together, pool our resources.” He looked to Ellie for support. “Because I'll tell you right now, hell itself won't keep me from getting out of here, and if I can help build a case against Feno, I'll stash evidence in any orifice I can reach.”

“Well, like we said, we don't know all the names. I don't know who Olivia meant when she said six were out. I know one of the Es on the list was Marianne, works with her in the med center and the care center. According to Marianne, a lot of sensitive records are kept on the computer system at the care center.” Annabeth pointed her chili-stained ladle at Bing. “And if you tell anyone that, I will have to kill you.” Ellie didn't think she was kidding.

Bing got to his feet. “Then that's where we need to go. Rachel, you want to get a little air and come with me to the care center? I do believe these battered ribs of mine need some tending right away.” Rachel jumped to her feet, the pallor on her cheeks making the perkiness seem a touch fake.

“What about me?” Ellie asked. “I want to do something.”

Bing shrugged. “It might look funny, a crowd of us heading into the care center. Maybe you could wait for us outside?”

Annabeth pointed at Ellie. “You said you weren't taking your meds. Do you still have them? That would be some handy evidence, actual samples of Horizon.”

What had she done with them? Mentally retracing her steps over the last frantic days, she groaned when she remembered. “I had them. I had them in a bag with the stolen files that I hid.” She thought back to fishing the bag out and couldn't remember seeing the pills in the dark shadows of the runoff grate. “They might still be there. I can check and I'll meet you two at the care center. I'll wait for you out front.”

Annabeth turned down the heat beneath the pot of chili. “Looks like I'll be keeping this warm for a while.” She smiled. “Let's hope we're all being overly pessimistic.” They looked one to the other, none of them believing it.

Ellie stayed with Rachel and Bing for a few blocks, until they had to head north toward the care center. The power was off on the blocks leading to the ruins of the records office, and Ellie tried not to let the midnight silence spook her. She told herself to relax, that the darkness was her ally. In one of the apartments she passed, two people argued at top volume and she narrowly escaped being hit by a sneaker hurled into the night. It seemed she wasn't the only person tense in Flowertown tonight. At the site of the records office, the police tape had been removed but dumpsters still lined the area, loaded with debris. Emergency entry lights flickered from across the street, making the shadows between the garbage bins darker.

“It's almost one o'clock in the morning, Ellie.” She spoke loudly enough that the sound of her voice would reassure her. “There is nobody out here. Really.” Almost convinced, Ellie stayed in the darkest of the shadows and searched for the runoff grate where she had stashed her bag. The shad
ows along the narrow patch of grass played tricks with her vision, and twice she reached down only to touch broken boards or discarded bricks. Finally her fingers found the grate and pulled back the heavy iron grille.

Taking one more useless look around in the darkness, Ellie lowered herself to her stomach and reached into the hole. She braced herself on the rim with one hand while she held up her lighter with the other. Saying a silent prayer there were no flammable gases in the drain, she flicked the lighter and could just make out the rack of pipe ends into which she had stuffed the bag. The light from the small flame only made the shadows darker, so she let the flame die. Ellie stuck the lighter in her mouth and reached into the blackness. There was a sheet of plastic; she could feel it slip between her fingers. That had to be the bag, still stuck on whatever bolt she had jammed it over.

Scooting farther into the hole, Ellie felt her stomach burning as it held her weight on the rim of the drain. Grunting, she pushed herself several inches deeper, her hips now taking the punishment, her balance pushed to its limits. She felt slime and damp plastic and sediment as she drew what was left of the bag closer to her and dared to breathe a sigh of hope when she thought she heard the rattle of pills inside a bottle. She knew she had to pull the bag slowly. If it tore, the pills would be unreachable, but she felt her legs and back struggling with the awkward position. She nearly bit through the lighter in her teeth as the bottom of the bag got closer and closer.

One gentle tug and the plastic came loose from the pipe. Ellie heard something rattling against plastic and swore to herself when she realized the bottle was not in the
bag. The bag was now nothing more than a shredded sheet of plastic. Trying not to panic, Ellie reached her fingertips once more into the pipe and could feel something plastic roll from her touch. The pill bottle. Her shoulder felt as if it were being dislocated as she forced her reach even farther. Two fingernails just caught the lid of the bottle, and she prayed she could keep her hold. The bottle slid though whatever mucked up the pipe end, building up a nice coating of slime on itself, but finally it was close enough for Ellie to wrap her fingers around.