Chapter Nine #2
Three hours later they were signing in at the hospital.
Gunnar had driven a roundabout route, constantly checking for a tail.
He didn’t spot anyone and relaxed once they’d entered the secure premises.
The three of them were escorted to a room with two beds where Orwell Armitage, the lupine, and the sanguine, whose name was Trent Gordon, were being looked after.
The room was a study in institutional sterility.
The off-white walls were broken by a single window covered by gray vertical blinds.
The metal-framed beds had smooth covers with neat corners.
There wasn’t too much in the way of medical paraphernalia, which Bryn took as a good sign.
A rolling table extended across each bed for meals and to one side of each sat a single squat metal chair.
The air carried the distinct scent of disinfectant and Gunnar kept wrinkling his nose.
Privacy curtains were drawn back to the wall.
The sanguine occupied the bed furthest from the door.
His skin, which would have been naturally pale, now had a translucent quality with blue veins mapped beneath the surface.
His eyes were ringed by circles so dark they seemed bruised.
His breathing was shallow and he exuded weariness.
Giles walked across to talk to him, indicating that the others should talk to Orwell first.
The lupine was sitting up, his big frame hunched and his cheeks flushed. When Bryn got closer he could make out a yellow tinge to the bloodshot whites of Orwell’s eyes. Orwell raised a hand in greeting to Gunnar.
“You look terrible,” Gunnar said.
Bryn winced but apparently it was the right thing to say because Orwell snorted with laughter.
“Say it like it is, Detective.”
“Call me Gunnar, and this is my partner Bryn.”
“The augur. The doc told me you were coming. You want to take a peek in my head, huh?”
“We think it might help us track down whoever is responsible for what happened to you, and others.”
“I don’t remember anything beyond arriving at the clinic.”
“That’s okay. If your subconscious has buried something, Bryn will still be able to see it.”
“Wow. Okay. If it helps. Are you gonna do vamp boy as well? He’s been real sick.”
“If he’s okay with it. Our colleague over there is a vamp too.”
“It helps you know, having someone around who knows…”
Gunnar nodded. “Bryn is very good at this. You won’t feel a thing and I’ll be the one asking a few questions, okay?”
“Sure. Let’s go.”
Bryn took the metal chair and gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “The wrist works best,” he said as he grasped Orwell’s arm. “I’m going to look at your most powerful memory first, okay?”
“Yeah, tell me what you’re seeing.”
“Okay.” Bryn closed his eyes and the images came instantly.
“I’m seeing blood, a pool of it on the floor of the room.
I think it’s a lab. It’s not your blood.
You feel… Confused… Horrified, but you can’t move however hard you try.
There’s a needle in the back of your hand taped in place.
You can feel it. You’re watching two orderlies drag a body away.
They’re smearing blood across the white floor.
It’s a stark contrast. The body, a vamp I’d guess, has blood coming from his eyes and mouth, his ears, and from beneath him.
The scrubs he’s wearing are stained dark… ”
It took effort not to yank his hand away. Bryn opened his eyes to a concerned expression on Gunnar’s face. He gave a quick nod to show he was okay even as a slow throb started up behind his eyes. Orwell seemed shell shocked.
“That’s all news to me. What the fuck is going on at that place?”
“Did you overhear any conversations?” Gunnar asked.
“Not that I recall.”
“Truth,” Bryn confirmed.
“Did you get names of any other patients?”
“No. Fuck, I’m useless, aren’t I?”
“Of course not,” Gunnar said. “You’re the victim here.”
“What did they put in me?”
“It’s a drug called Thanacrine. It enhances gene abilities,” Gunnar said. “But so far, it’s failed. Subjects have developed severe psychosis and become extremely violent.”
“I didn’t get that way, though. At least, I don’t think I did.”
“Truth,” Bryn said. “The drug is being refined. It’s possible you were given a new derivative.”
“Lucky me.”
Gunnar frowned. “Was there any particular reason you went to the clinic you did?”
“I got an invitation by email with a specific appointment. It seemed legit because I was due my annual blood draw, though thinking about it, previously I’ve had a reminder to make a date with the clinic of my choice. Guess I assumed the process had changed.”
Bryn gave a brief nod to indicate Orwell was telling the truth as he saw it.
“You still have the email?”
“I don’t think my cell or clothes made it out of the clinic. Could be anywhere. But if I log onto a computer, it should still be there on the server.”
“We’ll arrange for that to happen so you can forward it to GCR’s tech people,” Gunnar said. “Might be useful. Thanks, Orwell. Bryn needs to take a look at your vamp friend now but if anything comes back to you that you think might be relevant, you contact the GCR and ask for me, okay?”
“Sure. Think I need a nap. All I seem to do is sleep.”
His eyes were already closing so Bryn and Gunnar moved to the next bed.
The man huddled beneath his covers watched them approach. His eyes, pupils dilated, tracked Bryn’s every movement. Giles vacated the chair.
“I’m going to track down some blood for him. He’s hungry, and I don’t mean he has the munchies. Cookies and milk isn’t going to cover this.”
“I can’t believe it sounds appealing,” Trent said. “I’ve never craved blood before.”
“The effects of the drug should wear off in time,” Giles said. “If you can avoid sinking your teeth into our augur in the meantime, that would be nice.” He grinned and the vamp bared his teeth in response.
“No promises.”
Gunnar growled.
“Oh, and the wolfy one has no sense of humor.”
“Not helping, Giles.” Bryn took a seat. “Giles told you about what I’m going to do?”
“Yeah. You’re a bit of a rarity.”
“I don’t recommend it. You consent?”
“These people need stopping, so yes. Do your worst.”
Bryn grasped Trent’s wrist. “Gunnar, you want to start?”
“How about you tell us what you recall first, Mr. Gordon?” Gunnar said.
“Call me Trent. Mr. Gordon is my pops. Not much. I had an invite to attend the clinic for the annual blood draw. I was due so it seemed fine.”
“Your invite came by email?”
“Yes.”
“Carry on.”
“The only difference to previous dates was that the nurse used a vein in the back of my hand instead of my arm. I remember a scratch as the needle went in, then nothing until I came round in that place you found us. The hunger for blood was all-consuming but I was strapped down. I fought the restraints and broke them—I was much stronger than usual. I think it took three of them to get me on the floor. Then there was a jab in my thigh. It must have been a sedative because everything kind of faded. Next thing I knew you guys arrived and there were tubes coming out of my body. Couldn’t decide if I was dead or alive. ”
“I’m sorry you went through that,” Gunnar said. “Bryn is going to take a look at your memories now. It’s not that we don’t believe you, Bryn knows you’re being truthful, but there might be something in there that your brain is protecting you from.”
“Go ahead.”
Bryn concentrated. What he saw was filmed by a blood red haze. Trent’s strongest memory was of Orwell being strapped to a bed, of men in scrubs leaning over him. Bryn picked up a combination of lust and hunger before the memory went dark.
He gave the sanguine a brief smile. “Your strongest memory is of Orwell being brought into the room we found you in. I think you wanted to eat him. In more ways than one.” He grinned.
The sanguine scowled. “You’re fucking dangerous, aren’t you?”
Bryn laughed. “Sorry. I can’t filter what I see and I can’t lie about it. It is what it is.”
“And I think we’re done here.” Gunnar nudged Bryn’s chair with his foot just as Giles returned with a blood bag and a nurse.
“Talk to him,” Bryn whispered to Trent. “You never know, and wolves are hot.”
Gunnar pulled him away. “You know I can hear you, right?”
“Can you? Wow, who knew?” Bryn pulled his gloves on and pushed his dark glasses up his nose.
“Will you two stop acting like a married couple?” Giles snapped. “Almost everyone in this room has enhanced hearing.”
“Oops. My bad.” Bryn’s face heated but he put his lack of caution down to his now pounding head and an urgent need to sleep. “Time to go.”