Unforsaken (16 page)

“Only …” A look of fake sorrow passed over Prentiss’s
features. “There is more to the story, I am afraid. Details of his last engagement that were classified. Have you wondered what really happened that day, Kaz?”

Kaz did not speak; he just held my hand more tightly.

“As I thought. Kaz … I was, during that chapter of our nation’s history, close to, shall we say, the heart of the intelligence community. I had access to information that was never made public. I could—”

“Tell me, you bastard,” Kaz hissed. “If you know anything about my father, tell me.”

“No,” I whispered. I knew what Prentiss was doing—trying to draw Kaz’s focus away, to break him down, to weaken our bond, to turn him against the government so that he would agree to participate in the research. A Seer like Kaz—he would be of great value to them.

Wait a minute. A Seer like Kaz …

Prentiss had been there, with access to classified information about the troops stationed in Iraq.…

“You knew,” I said accusingly. “You knew his father was a Seer.”

“Ah, Hailey, you impress me again,” Prentiss said, clapping his hands in delight. “There was an experimental psychic viewing program that was begun back in 1988, when we first found evidence of psychic prodigies among the new recruits. Kaz, your father was far more gifted than any subject before or since. When word of his abilities reached me, I immediately called for his transfer to a more stable location, where he could enter our program safely. But …” He waved
his hands impatiently. “Paperwork. Red tape. Bureaucracy. In the end, I was not able to transfer him soon enough. Not before that terrible day in Al Busayyah. Your father did not have to die there, in the dirt. It was, if you care to know, the last straw in my frustration with working from within. The reason I decided to go … independent, you might say.”

I glanced at Kaz. His features were frozen in hatred. Grief would come later, I suspected, when he was alone.

If Prentiss thought he could sway Kaz with this story, he was mistaken. Prentiss might have tried to save his father, as he claimed, but it was only so Prentiss could use him. And we both knew it.

“Now we have an opportunity to work together, Kaz.” Prentiss pressed on. “You can save the lives of American soldiers like your father. We’ll begin with a few simple tests. Get to know one another, so to speak, before we begin exploring your marvelous gift. And then I’ll share what I know. As two colleagues might. Because that is what I want you to see me as, Kaz. Your colleague, your comrade, with a shared goal. Not to mention the promise of handsome rewards.”

“So now you’re bribing him?” I demanded, enraged. “Are you insane? Why would he ever agree to help you?”

Prentiss frowned at me, eyes narrowed. The good humor disappeared from his expression. “You would do well to remember that we also have Jacob. Oh, excuse me … Chub, as you know him.”

His words chilled me. “What do you mean …”

“Jacob Alan Turlock. Born at home, rushed to Casey
General Hospital to deal with complications at birth. Fetal alcohol syndrome and … but you don’t want to hear the whole list now, do you, Hailey?”

They knew everything. They knew where Chub had come from. They knew things about him that I had never known, and I realized that it wasn’t only Kaz who was under their thumb.

Prentiss had me.

“As I thought,” he said softly. He signaled to the men who’d brought us here. “We have so much to talk about. Why don’t you two freshen up, change into clean clothes, have something to eat? And then we will talk again.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” Kaz said. He shook off the guard’s hand as he stood.

“Oh, I very much doubt that,” Prentiss said mildly. “I foresee many interesting conversations ahead for the three of us.”

“I have nothing to say to you either,” I said.

“Is that so?” Prentiss gave me his full attention, drilling me with his cold stare. His eyes were slightly bulging and watery. “There are carrots and sticks, my young friends. I am a civilized man, a peaceful man, at heart. A merchant. I would far prefer to employ carrots. Rewards. We can do smart business together and you will be handsomely compensated. You can have a rich and rewarding future with us. Or … you can fight me. But then I will use a stick. And trust me on this: those who have felt the force of my stick wish they had never challenged me.”

P
RENTISS WAS PREPARED
to be more than generous with the carrots, if the accommodations he provided for me were any indication. The room I was led to had a broad window overlooking the fields rolling away to the east. Far in the distance I could see a stand of black willows lining the bend in Sugar Creek. A mile or so after that, the creek took a turn to the south and joined up with Beaver Creek and eventually flowed into the Lake of the Ozarks.

I had never been to the Lake of the Ozarks. Kids at school were always talking about family trips to the campsites and motels that lined the hundreds of miles of shoreline. They talked about days spent lying on the beaches, with their trucked-in sand and weedy bottoms, paddling canoes and going to waterslides and eating barbecue. There were waterskiing
and wakeboarding, sunburns and mosquitoes and car stereos playing loud.

And I had never experienced any of it.

I took a hot shower and dried off with a fluffy towel, then dressed in the clothes that had been left for me. They were plain—black pants and a black silky T-shirt—but the quality was very fine, and the fit was almost perfect. I dried my hair and treated my cuts with antibiotic ointment I found in the medicine cabinet. I looked through the cosmetics that stocked the shelves, wondering who had chosen them—probably some junior member of Prentiss’s staff, a woman selected because she was young herself or because she had a daughter my age. For a moment I felt myself softening and then I realized I had to steel myself against everyone here. I couldn’t afford to forget for a minute that they had kidnapped Prairie and Chub, that they meant to put us to work making zombies.

I slammed the medicine cabinet, leaving the cosmetics untouched.

Then there was nothing to do but wait. The sun was high in the sky, a weak sun filtered by filmy clouds that signaled rain later in the day. Far off in a field of corn I saw someone making his way down the rows with a ground sprayer, but he was too far away for me to see his features.

By now, the local farmers must have noticed the activity at the office park. No matter how careful Prentiss was, he couldn’t hide the deliveries of all the equipment and supplies. Or the staff arriving from around the country, possibly even
around the world, the best in their fields, the ones who could be swayed by salaries far above what they could earn in the public sector or—for those who valued their work above money—who would do anything for a chance to work on the cutting edge.

But how hard would it be to convince the people of Gypsum that the activity at the park was innocent? No one would scrutinize the details too closely if money was coming into the community. If Prentiss was smart, he’d seed the town with payouts for everyone. Sign up for food delivery from the local distributors. Hire landscapers, laundry service, waste service—all the while posing as some company that manufactured computer components or medical supplies. He could pay off a few inspectors so they wouldn’t look too closely at the research labs and paint a few trucks with fake logos, and as long as the money kept flowing, no one would ask questions.

Sometime down the line, people would start to wonder why there were no jobs for locals, why no one ever saw the inner workings of the facility—but Prentiss was probably betting that by then he would have everything he needed, and he could exit the town as stealthily as he had arrived. His reason for locating here was to be close to the Seer population, but maybe he thought he could win them over with his endless cash resources. And he was probably right. Once the Banished men got used to a steady paycheck, they would probably be just as willing to relocate for Prentiss as the rest of his staff was.

There was a knock at the door, and after a moment’s hesitation, I opened it. Standing in the doorway was a woman I hadn’t seen before. She was around forty, thin, with brown hair pulled back in a severe ponytail. She wore a pressed white lab coat, glasses, a slash of red lipstick and a smile that looked like she had to work at it. “I’m Dr. Grace. It’s nice to meet you, Hailey.”

I ignored the hand she held out for me to shake. “Where’s Chub? Where are you keeping him?”

Her smile faltered and she withdrew her hand. “I should tell you that there are security cameras throughout the building. We are being observed, and if you do anything to threaten my safety, armed personnel will be here in a matter of seconds.”

“Good to know,” I said sarcastically. “I guess I won’t use my Vulcan death grip on you, then.”

She didn’t speak as she led me down the hall. I looked at every door we passed, hoping to catch a glimpse of Chub, but they were all closed. It smelled like new construction and fresh paint, and I guessed this wing had been turned into a residence for the staff.

Including the reluctant ones, like me and Kaz—the ones who had to be locked in.

We descended a set of stairs below ground level to a cafeteria. The smell of cooking made my stomach growl, and I realized I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. A dozen people lined up with trays, and others sat at tables in pairs and small groups, eating and talking. I couldn’t help being impressed
that they’d gotten all this up and running so quickly, an entire self-sustained community within the office park. There was no reason for any of the staff to venture outside the buildings. Trucking in the food and supplies had to cost a fortune, but money didn’t appear to be a concern to Prentiss.

“We’ll be in the private dining room,” Dr. Grace said, and pushed open a glass door to a bright and sunny room. The long table in the center was laid with white linens, fresh flowers and china. Prentiss and Kaz were already seated at one end, along with a man dressed like Dr. Grace.

Prentiss stood when we entered, followed quickly by the other man. Reluctantly, Kaz stood too; I could tell he was battling between good manners and not wanting to give Prentiss the satisfaction of complying with him.

Once we were inside, I saw that there was one more person in the room: the guard from earlier, the tall one with the mustache, stood by the door, his expression impassive.

“Lunch will be brought in shortly,” Prentiss said as Dr. Grace and I took our seats. “I hear there’s fresh catfish today. They do it very well here, with a light breading and a lemon sauce. I’m sure you’ll love it. And if you don’t, they are happy to accommodate special requests.”

“Cut to the chase,” Kaz said. “You said you’d tell me when Hailey got here. What do we have to do to see Chub?”

Prentiss’s expression turned thoughtful. “I’m afraid he is on a … slightly different meal schedule, at the moment. Dr. Grace feels that Jacob—uh, Chub—will benefit from a program of limited contact with others as—”

“He’s probably terrified,” I interrupted, realizing as soon as the words were out of my mouth that that was exactly what the General intended. He was isolating Chub to force him to cooperate with the testing in exchange for the simplest of comforts—a lap to sit in, a story to be read to him. Or a chance to see me, now that I was here.

“I won’t eat until you let me see him,” Kaz said, folding his arms across his chest. “You’ll have to knock me out and put a tube in me.”

“Oh dear, there’s no need for all this drama.” Prentiss sighed as a young woman wheeled a cart into the room. “Have a nice lunch, dear boy. If you’re worried about being poisoned, you can take your pick of any of the dishes. Thank you, Mavis,” he added as the server began setting salads at each place. “If you’ll just—”

A muted chirping caused him to frown. He pulled out a sleek phone and spoke quietly. “Yes? … You’re sure? Where? … How did he … Cutler
and
Greybull, you’re positive?”

I could make out the frantic tone of the voice on the other end, but not the words.

I knew it had to be about Prairie. She was the only loose end still out there; the rest of us had all been brought here. How long had it been since Rattler set out for Chicago? Nine hours? Ten? Just about long enough to reach Chicago if he’d driven fast. Just as Rattler had known where to intercept me and Kaz, he could have known where her captors were going to stop for gas or lunch.

I glanced at Kaz, who was watching me with his eyes
narrowed. His expression told me he was thinking the same thing I was.

“Dead?” Prentiss’s face, which was already tight with anger, twisted into a mask of consuming rage. “How the
hell
did you let that happen?”

My pulse spiked with fear. Had Prairie been killed in a fight with Prentiss’s men? Or Rattler? Or had she somehow managed to fight back—and win?

“How fast can you get there?” I heard fury building in Prentiss’s tightly controlled voice. “You’ve got half that. Secure the bodies. Call Gurz; he’ll assist with the troopers and police. I’m on my way; I’ll be right behind you.”