A voice over a loudspeaker hailed us from the encroaching boat. "Stop please," it said.

  "Well, ain't that polite," Carl yelled over the airboat’s engine.

  "This is the police, stop now," the voice said with authority.

  Carl slowed down. "What are you doing?" I yelled over my shoulder at him.

  "Don't worry," he yelled back. "This isn't my first time at the rodeo."

  As the second boat approached all I could see was the light. When they were about ten yards away Carl throttled the fan up to high and we shot off across the open landscape. The other boat pursued us, their light blazing over our stern, casting strange and frightening shadows through the fan. As it began to gain on us, Carl turned the boat hard, the bow submerging for a moment, and the stern spun around 180 degrees. We jerked forward and passed the other boat as they sped by us.

  Their light blinded me for a moment. Now they knew I was aboard. But suddenly that didn't matter all that much as Carl was headed full speed toward a stand of tall grasses. He hit them hard, crushing the long stems. I turned around and saw them pop back up behind us.

  For a moment we were totally surrounded by the swaying reeds, only a small patch of turbulent sky above us. Then we we were out of them and into another canal lined on one side with trees and on the other with grasses. Carl turned the rudder hard just before we slammed into the apple trees and we took off down the narrow passage. I turned around and watched as the other boat flew out of the grasses and slammed into the apple hammock across the way. The light jerked out and the scene fell into darkness. Our fan engine's furious whirling was the only thing I could hear. "Woohoo," Carl yelled. "Haha, we showed those bastards, didn't we, Earl?"

  Earl nodded, his forehead creased. Then he raised the flask to his lips. Carl slowed the boat, quieting the engine as we navigated through canals cut between the reeds, which seemed to reach for us as they bent in the wind. We took a left into a canal cut through more apple hammocks. The wind whistled through the tops of the trees, at water level barely a breeze was felt. Carl slowed and then cut the engine. I strained to listen, hearing the sound of rain tinging against the hull, the croaking of the bull frogs, Blue panting, but no other airboats.

  Carl spit into the water again and then started the engine back up and puttered us slowly forward until I could see the launch. A car drove by on the road as Carl tapped the boat against the cement and Earl jumped onto solid land.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Blank

  I ran because something terrifying was following me. Branches grabbed at my arms, roots hooked my feet. Blue kept nudging my hip, telling me to fight on.

  I blinked my eyes. Blinding light. I blinked again, began to see shapes, dark and light, browns, blacks and whites. "Sydney," I heard someone say. I could feel scratches on my legs from the trees, they burned.

  "Sydney," I heard again, the voice concerned, soft and hopeful.

  A pressure on my left shoulder made my head loll toward it. I heard the shuffling of bodies moving around a room. I blinked my eyes again, but they wouldn't stay open, only offering the briefest glimpse of a world made up of shadow figures. I rested for a moment, confused, feeling lightheaded.

  Taking a deep breath I forced my eyes open. A dark figure closed in on me, the white light behind it making its edges glow brown. "Sydney," it said. "Can you hear me?"

  "Who are you?" I asked, my tongue felt heavy and my voice sounded small.

  "It's me, Sydney. It's Mulberry."

  The name meant nothing to me.

  ++++

  There was a couch in front of me. Hugh and Santiago were sitting on it, talking to each other, not looking over at me. I was sitting in a chair. There were slippers on my feet. Hugh was looking at me now. His mouth moved. "Sydney?"

  It felt like my brain lurched. Like from a train car pile up. My vision twisted and stayed blurred for a moment. Movement and then Hugh and Santiago were over me, their faces close. I could smell shampoo and black pepper. "Can you hear me?" Hugh asked, his voice tight.

  "Yes," I said, the world sliding back into place. There was a ceiling above me. Santiago and Hugh looked at each other. I must have fallen out of the chair, I thought.

  "I'll get the doctor," Santiago said.

  Hugh nodded then turned his attention back to me. Santiago rose off his knees, using the upholstered chair I’d been sitting in for leverage. "Sydney, do you know who I am?" Hugh asked.

  "Hugh?"

  "Yes!"

  "Hugh? What's going on?" I asked, lifting my head, raising a shoulder and propping myself up on an elbow. Behind Hugh was the couch I'd seen when I first opened my eyes. It was upholstered in red and gold with a straight back and low arms. Meant for visiting, not for relaxing. In front of it a low square table had an array of magazines fanned across it. Hugh's eyes twitched back and forth, he looked nervous. "What is it?" I asked as the first prickles of warning began to travel up my neck. Footsteps in the hall. Blue's growl hummed.

  A door opened and I sat up further, peeking around the chair I’d slipped out of, to look at two approaching figures. It was Santiago and a woman wearing scrubs. There was a furrow between her brows and her lips were pursed. She moved quickly but loudly, her movements over-emphasized. She bent over and grabbed the armrest of the chair then lowered onto her knees with a grimace of pain. Blue's growl clicked off and she asked. "Do you know your name?"

  "Sydney Rye."

  "That's good." She smiled, her face relaxing. Oh shit, I thought. When knowing your own name is an accomplishment something has gone terribly wrong.

  I started to get up, climbing onto my hands and knees. The woman put a strong hand around my arm to help me. I took a breath there, looking down at my hands. The nails were filed and buffed. The skin littered with fresh pink scars, almost healed. I was wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans with what felt like an elastic waist.

  Sitting back onto my heels I felt my muscles move and a dull ache, as if I’d done a serious session of squats the day before. Aching but strong. Straightening my back I felt the vertebrae line up, my shoulders fall into place, my head raising to rest comfortably on my neck. It all worked.

  I felt an itch and the sting of healing flesh on my left forearm. Pulling up my sleeve I found a long scar, small pieces of scab still pulling at the skin. I heard a click and Blue's growl rose again. A cool breeze touched me and I watched as goosebumps rose around the wound. Looking up I saw an air conditioning vent, air humming out of it. "Where is Blue?" I asked.

  "He's with Merl, totally safe," Hugh said.

  "Not here?" I asked, listening to the air conditioner and not hearing Blue anymore.

  "Let's get you up off the ground," the nurse said. She helped me into the chair and I was facing the couch again. Hugh and Santiago hovered around me. "Sit down," she told them. "Give her some room."

  They complied, returning to their seats. The woman put a blood pressure cuff around my bicep. The velcro sounded like a strong wind tearing through trees.

  The nurse looked up from my elbow, her stethoscope in her ears. The door was opening and a man wearing a white doctor’s coat walked in. He was about six feet tall with salt and pepper hair. The man turned to Hugh and Santiago. "Could you two wait outside?" he asked.

  They looked at each other. Santiago bit his lip and Hugh looked back at me, his eyes pleading. "I want them to stay," I said.

  He nodded and then pulled up a chair made of dark wood with a padded seat. The nurse stood up and backed away. "Her vitals are good," she told him.

  "Good," he said, sitting down. His pants raised up over his ankles exposing colorful socks. He smiled at me. "My name is Dr. Jose Garcia." The doctor folded his hands in his lap and leaned back. "Do you know who you are?"

  "Yes," I answered.

  "Do you know who I am?"

  "Dr. Jose Garcia."

  He nodded. "Good. Before I ask you any more questions, first I want to make it clear to you that you are in a safe place. No one can get to you here. Not only are you safe here but so are your secrets."

  The tingle of warning brushed the back of my neck again. "Am I a prisoner?" I asked.

  The doctor shook his head. "No, no. Nothing you tell me will leave this room, doctor- patient privilege. There is no way I can end up in a court room." I glanced at Hugh and Santiago but they were whispering to each other.

  "Where am I?"

  The doctor smiled again and separated his hands, resting them on his knees and leaning forward. "You're in Miami at the FGI headquarter's recovery department and I've been looking after you since your arrival here."

  I felt an empty click inside my brain when I tried to remember. It felt the same as when a gun hammer taps an empty barrel. Terrifying when unexpected.

  "How long have I been here?" I asked.

  "You've been unresponsive for eighteen days."

  "Excuse me?"

  "While I'm sure you have lots of questions I'd like to take a look at your eyes real quick if that's okay." He pulled a small flashlight out of his breast pocket.

  "Why?" I asked.

  "To check the dilation. They look pretty good from here but I'd like to take a closer look. It won't hurt. Just a little look."

  I glanced at Hugh. He nodded.

  "Okay," I said, my knuckles tightening on the arm rest.

  The doctor leaned forward and took a firm grasp of my head. Using his thumb he pulled up my left eyelid and flashed his tiny light into it. I felt my pupil react, tightening inside the iris. He moved on to my right eye and did the same move then sat back smiling. "Very good," he said. "Now, can you tell me when you came to Florida?"

  "Yes," I answered, remembering the flight with Mulberry. Landing in Miami. Seeing Hugh again after all these years.

  "When was that?"

  "I don't know. Feels like a week or so ago but obviously, if what you've said is true, then that's impossible."

  He nodded. "So what is the last thing you do remember?"

  Images flipped through my mind like index cards in a library file cabinet. Running along the driveway, crunching of shells under foot. Stepping into the professor’s office, the brush of our lips, the glaze in his eyes. The way his mind fell blank. "Oh my God," I whispered.

  "What?" Jose asked, “Do you see something?”

  "No, I just... I was drugged."

  "You remember?"

  "No," I closed my eyes. Running into the reeds, (tick), wind whipping my face as we raced across the water, (click), the roar of the fan, (tap), the thunk of the boat against the cement launch.

  "Do you remember going to Walmart?" Dr. Garcia asked me.

  I looked up at him, remembering the knife's serrated edge. "I don't know," I lied.

  He smiled. "That's fine. We'll see what comes back to you in the next couple of hours. Maybe you should just lie down and rest."

  I looked over at Hugh and Santiago. "Can I have a minute with her before she lies down?" Hugh asked.

  "Maybe I could ask you some questions, Doctor?" Santiago said, standing up and gesturing toward the door.

  The doctor stood, dropping his flashlight back into his jacket pocket. "Just a moment." He looked down at me. "She needs to rest."

  Santiago opened the door and Dr. Garcia went through, followed by the nurse. Hugh watched the door close and then stood up and came around to give me a hug. It felt nice to have his arms around me. "Listen," he whispered. "Malina will come for you tonight."

  "What?"

  "Shh, quiet," his voice against my ear. "I love you. Thank you. I'll see you again soon." He squeezed me and I closed my eyes, squeezing back, knowing that he was on my side.

  #

  I was in a bed now, my eyes closed, my head on a pillow. I heard that empty click as I tried to remember beyond the airboat reaching the launch. Blue's face, his muzzle blood-soaked, spatters up to his ears, his chest bright red, flashed across my vision. Blue's teeth were bared, his eyes telling me to run.

  I sat up, gulping air, throwing the blankets off of me.

  How much time had passed?

  I was sitting in the forest, a lit cigarette between my lips, the smoke floating across my vision. I inhaled, feeling the acrid fumes fill my lungs, satiating a need there. Releasing the breath, smoke billowed from my mouth.

  Blue sat next to me, one ear up straight, the other swiveling like a satellite. The ground was dry beneath me but the air was moist and heavy. I could hear rain beating against the leaves. We were deep in the canopy. The lightning that flashed barely lit the dark interior. But the thunder seemed to vibrate the entire growth. Blue stood, his hackles rising, both ears straining forward.

  He turned to look at me, his eyes calming, the whirl of the fan boat far away. They could not find us here. The fur on his muzzle was matted with blood up to his eyes. His chest was a mess of leaves and dirt, sticky and congealed looking. Lightning struck close, filling the air with its electric current. Sparks ignited the dried leaves and a fire quickly bloomed in the near distance, its flickering tongues dancing toward us.

  Blue barked. I jumped up, taking the cigarette from between my lips and dropping it to the ground, grinding it out with my sneaker. He nudged me and barked again. I began to run away from the fire, pushing between the close trees, which seemed to pull at me, scraping my skin. I looked down and blood dripped off my elbow. I watched as a branch reached out and curled around my arm, squeezing the flesh. Blue barked again and I tried to pull away from it but another limb curled around my waist, pulling me against the trunk.

  I struggled but felt weak and useless, my body exhausted. A branch wound around my chest, I reached down and bit at it, sinking my teeth through the bark into the sap. It grunted. I could feel its heartbeat through the bark against my back. Its breath was on my ear, it was whispering to me.

  #

  "It's me," the voice said. "Mulberry. Joy, it's me, shhh..."

  I looked down at myself and saw two arms holding me tight, one of them had a vicious bite wound on the forearm.

  They were Mulberry's arms. His chest was against my back. I slumped as the adrenaline left my system in a rush. If Mulberry hadn't been gripping me I would have fallen. He picked me up easily. Holding under my knees and shoulders, Mulberry carried me back to the bed. After laying me down he stood over me, his brow knit, eyes scanning, looking for some kind of answer. He wrapped my right hand between both of his. "You recognize me?" he asked.

  "Yes."

  He laughed and seemed to choke on it, turning his face away from me and toward the closed curtains. They covered the left wall, blocking out all light except for a glow at the bottom where the thick drapes brushed against the wood floor.

  "Did I bite you?" I asked, looking at the raw wound on his arm. He was wearing a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. It was wrinkled, and the front slightly untucked out of his gray slacks from our struggle.

  Mulberry cleared his throat. "Yes," he said, turning his eyes back to me. "It's fine though. What did you see?"

  I leaned back against the pillow feeling exhaustion overwhelm me. "He saved my life," I said.

  "Who?" Mulberry asked.

  I let my eyes slide shut. Mulberry raised his hand to my face and rubbed the edge of his thumb down my jaw line.

  "Stay," I said. "Don't leave me." I realized for the first time in a long time that I didn't want to be alone. Not anymore.

  "Okay," Mulberry said.

  When I woke again sunlight streamed in through a gap in the curtains, creating a line of light across the room. Mulberry slept in a chair next to me, his hand over mine. His head was thrown over the back of the chair. I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed in his sleep. Mulberry hadn't shaved in a couple of days. His beard was peppered with silver, copper, and gold.

  The laptop. I suddenly remembered gripping it to my chest, squeezing it so that the edges of the case dug into my skin.

  Mulberry's eyes fluttered and he looked over at me. Seeing me awake he smiled and sat up. "Hey," he said, leaning toward me.

  "What about the laptop?" I asked.

  He grinned.

  "Did I give it to you?"

  "We found it with you."

  "What do you mean? Found me?"

  Mulberry's brow furrowed and he brought both of his hands to hold mine. I remembered the wet, stringy pieces of grass as they swirled around my ankles, the water soaking through my sneakers, making them heavy and cold. I felt water seeping through my clothing, a wet chill flowing up my back. I shivered and Mulberry squeezed my hand. "It's still happening," I whispered.

  "What?" He leaned forward.

  "I don't know."

  "Are you hallucinating? Is there something in the room?"

  "I don't know," I said, pulling his hand to my breast, holding it close to me. "Maybe they are memories or maybe they are dreams."

  "Like when you were fighting me?"

  "I thought you were a tree." He nodded, looking concerned. "I was wearing cotton in my nose." I strained to remember. "Did I take it out?"

  Mulberry frowned. "Professor Nablestone had developed a formula that went in through the eyes. It's only potent in the air for a short time and is fired from a gun, giving the assailant enough distance so that he’s not affected. Once the victim is intoxicated the shooter can move in within three minutes."

  My memory was beginning to clear. I had hugged and thanked Carl and Earl at the dock, then made by way back to my car. Nablestone must have found the car and been waiting for me.

  "So he got me?" I asked, a tremble in my voice.

  "No," Mulberry answered.

  "What do you mean?" I turned to him, almost knowing what he was going to say.

  "Professor Nablestone is dead."

  "I killed him?"

  Mulberry shook his head. "Blue did."

  I nodded.

  "I found him by the Audi. Blue tore his throat out."

  "I remember Blue being covered in blood," I said. "Or I dreamed it."

  "He was matted with blood when we found you," Mulberry said.

  I didn't know whether it made me feel better or worse that my nightmare might have been a memory. "What about Hugh's case?"

 

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