25. Ripley
CHAPTER 25
RIPLEY
PLAY DEAD (JUST FOR TONIGHT) – THE MESSENGER BIRDS
Walking slowly with my arms clasped loosely around my waist, I hold the bulge of contraband inside my sweatpants. With my usual, oversized t-shirt on top, the large bag of pills is well-concealed anyway. I’m just on edge and paranoid.
It’s taken me months to build up Noah’s stash. Sneaking small quantities from batches here and there, I’ve had to carefully count each pill, ensuring the plan will work. He’s still sure about the desired outcome, and despite the way it makes me internally flinch, I won’t let him down.
He’s made his choice.
I’m just a means to an end.
Detaching from the reality of my actions has gotten me this far in life. What’s one more scratch on the scorecard? No one ever likes to admit that in order to get what we want, or even protect the ones we love, there’s always a price to be paid.
I wonder if that’s what Lennox told himself before he entered Holly’s bedroom that night. Was she simply just another scratch on his scorecard? A price he was willing to pay? I guess that’s all we ever are to each other in the end. Pawns to be manipulated and wiped out of the game.
This is my best move.
I’m removing Lennox from the chess board.
The loading bay is deserted. No one else knows it, but the CCTV cameras are always kept on a loop here. Maintaining pretences for the sake of posterity. If anyone was ever to check the feed, they’d see old footage peppered in to reflect normal comings and goings.
But I’m not here to meet Elon today. Instead, I hop down from the dock then head for the collection of wooden pallets clustered in the far corner. Tucked behind them is a small gap in the dock’s concrete base. I noticed it while ignoring Elon’s scowl during one of our exchanges.
The collection of pills weigh heavy in my hand as I stash them in the gap. After locating a discarded brick to wedge in front of it, they’re completely concealed.
I don’t know how long it’ll be before he can retrieve his pharmaceutical payment, and I can’t be caught delivering the drugs. When Noah attacks Lennox, it has to look like any other fight. No one can know I’ve bribed him to do it.
Brushing my hands off, I quickly glance around before slipping away. The walk back to the quad is quiet. It’s been a few days since the flood, but normal business hasn’t resumed. The manor itself is suffering from the acquired damage, and we’ve even had intermittent power outages.
Hired help bustle about the destroyed grounds, loading trucks with broken trees and smashed picnic tables. Several of the institute’s stained glass windows have been boarded over, awaiting repair.
The destruction seems to have awakened something wild in the patient population. Violence has been erupting constantly between patients and guards. But now, I see two people creating faux snow angels in the still-wet mud. Their clothing is slowly turning brown, the thick mud covering their hair and faces.
It’s a welcome reprieve.
I can’t look away from their bright smiles. The sound of laughter sinks into me and thaws something. Even somewhere like this, there’s still joy to be found. What I wouldn’t give to find some joy of my own.
“Seriously?” a familiar voice gripes. “Come on, guys. Not cool.”
The two patients ignore Langley’s approach. He stops at the edge of the quagmire and braces his hands on his hips. His round baby blues are filled with aggravation as he contemplates what to do with them.
“You ever consider a career change?” I call out.
His head snaps in my direction. “Got any suggestions?”
“I went to school with this guy, a real entrepreneur type. He used to buy these knock off t-shirts online then sell them for a profit. Last I heard, he’s living in a townhouse in Surrey now.”
“By selling dodgy t-shirts?”
“Nah. Pretty sure he’s a drug dealer now.”
With an eye roll, he briefly looks back at the two troublesome patients before crossing the few short steps to join me. I dodge a puddle to meet him in the middle.
“How is Raine today?”
“Still laid up.” I shrug absently.
My anxiety for Raine couldn’t be more acute. The medical team has kept him in for monitoring. He’s on a controlled regimen of drugs and fluids to give him the best shot at making this work.
Each morning that I return to see him, I’m convinced it’ll be the day I find his bed empty. I don’t trust Harrowdean to do something good for once. They prefer their patients dependent in every sense.
When management hears about his situation, I don’t know what they’ll do. With the chaos of the storm and subsequent cleanup, no one seems to have realised they have a surplus patient who’s ripe for the taking yet.
“Listen, Rip.” Langley lowers his voice. “I know you’re worried about Raine. Maybe I can help, but it’ll require your cooperation.”
I blink up at him. “Cooperation?”
“People are paying attention now. Things are changing.”
“What are you saying?”
His eyes dart around, checking that we’re not being overheard. “Cooperating is your best chance to get him out of here unharmed. You have inside knowledge. We can use that.”
My feet inch backwards. “We?”
Langley grabs my shoulder to stop me from leaving. I flinch, my hackles immediately rising.
“All it would take is one phone call, Rip.” His voice is low and urgent.
“Take your hands off me. You’re not making any sense.”
In my periphery, I see Noah’s gangly height step into the quad. He glances around, catching sight of me then nodding once. We’re on a strict schedule to make this work. I don’t have time for riddles.
“We can offer you protection,” Langley explains hastily. “But we need your help.”
“Who are you talking about?” A hint of suspicion sneaks in. “Wait… Who do you really work for?”
“Just think about it.” Releasing my shoulder, he captures my hand and presses something into it. Langley stares into my eyes for a prolonged second before taking off to deal with the mud-soaked patients.
I slowly look down at the glossy business card he’s passed me with a single contact number on it. The organ trapped behind my breastbone does somersaults.
Hunter Rodriguez.
Director of Sabre Security.
Quickly shoving it into my bra before anyone can spot what we’ve just exchanged, I barely have a second to reel in my shock before Noah jogs over to me.
“Classes let out in a couple minutes.”
I shake my head from side to side, trying to focus. “Right. The plan.”
“You with me, Rip?”
“Yeah, of course. Payment has been stashed.”
“Sure this shit can’t be traced back to you?” He scans my facial expression.
My heart is pounding so hard, it feels like it could shatter my ribcage into tiny flakes. Why the hell do those people want to talk to me? Aren’t they the same investigators who want my head on a stake? Bancroft warned me what would happen if Harrowdean falls.
I’m culpable too.
I can’t trust anyone.
“Ripley!” Noah nudges me. “It’s now or never. Are we good?”
“Y-Yes.” I rub my eyes.
“So? The pills?”
“There’s… uh, someone else pushing product. I put your shit in one of their plastic money bags. Leave it in sight, and it’ll lead right back to them.”
“Okay.” He blows out a heavy breath. “I guess this is it.”
Indecision tears at my psyche as I wrestle with the sudden urge to call the whole thing off. I want Lennox gone, but that phone number and all it represents has thrown everything into disarray.
Someone out there wants to help.
Will they still want to if I do this?
Before I can utter a word, Noah tugs me into a hard, fast hug that makes my teeth clack together. I squeak in shock. He quickly releases me then steps away with a small, sad smile.
“Watch your back, Rip.” His eyes shine with a weird look of resolution. “You deserve a life outside this place. I hope you find it.”
“Noah, wait…”
He’s already striding towards the door that attaches to the south wing where classes are about to finish. It wasn’t hard to pin down Lennox’s routine. Whenever he’s done with the maths class he got roped into attending, he always needs to step outside. I suspect it’s a habit leftover from his smoking days.
Noah props himself against the brick wall. Right on time, the door bursts open, and patients flood outside. The corridors are being cleaned and repaired after the flood, so there’s more footfall heading outside than usual.
Panic takes hold as I scan the crowd, recognising a few familiar faces. The invisible hand at my lungs tightens its grip as I spot his pile of chocolate-brown hair. Lennox’s bulky height towers over everyone else.
He’s stony-faced as usual in his standard white t-shirt and fitted sweatpants. Walking with big strides, he escapes the throng to stand in the middle of the lawn. The puddles don’t seem to bother him.
I watch in morbid fascination as he tilts his head upwards and sighs heavily. His toned shoulders are drooping, reflecting the slump of his posture.
Lennox looks defeated.
Abandoned like the rest of us.
So why doesn’t that satisfy me?
Pushing off from the wall, Noah squares his shoulders. I’m carried forward several steps to intercept him before the devil on my shoulder wins out. He’s choosing this. I’m just a facilitator. This is the price of war.
If I tell myself that enough times, perhaps I’ll be able to sleep at night. But excuses haven’t eased the guilt that haunts my nightmares from every other incident I’ve justified this way. And deep down, I know it won’t now.
Noah approaches him then shoves his shoulder. Seeing him facing off against Lennox and his poundage brings home the reality of what I’ve arranged. Noah’s going to get himself killed—by Lennox’s rage or the drugs I’m paying him with to provoke it.
If I do this, I’m no better than the monster I’ve condemned. Lennox hurts people to further his own gains. This right here is me doing exactly the same thing to get what I want.
Holly wouldn’t be proud of this. She’d be fucking ashamed. This is wrong. Revenge isn’t worth this price. I’ve been caught up in this twisted game for so long, I’ve lost my humanity along the way.
It isn’t too late.
You can stop this.
As Lennox whirls around and begins to shout, I move. Noah’s too far away for me to make out what he’s saying, but it doesn’t take much to provoke Lennox. Especially since I gave Noah a few pointers. He knows all the pressure points to hit.
Having dragged the patients out of their muddy playground, Langley is occupied by escorting them inside. He hasn’t noticed the disaster about to unfold. I have no backup to break apart the impending brawl I’ve instigated.
Noah shoves Lennox again, hollering something in his face. I watch Lennox slowly turn red, grabbing Noah’s shirt and wrenching him forward so fast, he stumbles. His face sails straight into Lennox’s fist.
“No!” I screech.
Spitting out a mouthful of blood, Noah laughs as he says something else to Lennox. My yelling doesn’t stop the next punch from flying. Only this time, Noah hits back, causing Lennox’s head to snap to the side.
Several patients have gathered to watch. I slam into someone’s shoulder, desperate to reach Noah and drag him away from Lennox’s onslaught. He’s still baiting him despite the blood smeared around his mouth.
“Right this way, ladies and gentlemen.” A voice rings out across the quad as several pairs of footsteps echo behind me. “You know, we were so delighted to be contacted for this interview opportunity.”
Bancroft’s gloating is unmistakable. I’d recognise his smug, regal tenor even in a pitch-black room. The old man speaks like we’re living in a period drama.
“As you can see, we’re pouring every resource into the cleanup effort this week. Here at Harrowdean, we care for our patients.”
Horrified, I look over my shoulder. Bancroft is here, with Davis and several guards in tow, Elon included. There’s also a leggy blonde with three cameramen. Her bright pantsuit screams journalist.
She points a microphone towards him. “We’re here to talk about the investigation.”
“There’s plenty more for me to show you!” Bancroft quickly deflects. “We have lots of exciting initiatives here.”
“Sir, would you care to respond to recent rumours of medical malpractice and violence in your institutes?”
“Violence?” Bancroft shakes his head, a charming smile in place. “No, never. This is a place of healing. We’re helping to rehabilitate those in need.”
There’s a series of bellows before the shouting catches their attention. Surrounded by a gaggle of onlookers, Lennox has Noah on his back, two hands wrapped around his throat as he slams him repeatedly into the ground.
The blonde reporter perks up, instructing her cameramen to begin recording. Bancroft’s smile morphs into a look of outrage. To add insult to injury, patients have started cheering the pair on, each body slam eliciting another excited roar.
“You seem to have a security issue,” the reporter comments.
Bancroft’s enraged gaze bounces over me, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the fracas. I’m running before I can hear whatever crap he’s going to spew next. Lennox is going to break Noah’s spine on national fucking television at this rate.
This was a mistake.
I’ve crossed a line.
I should turn around and disappear before I’m incriminated too, but I have to stop this before it’s too late. Throwing myself into the mix is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.
Yet the weight of that damned business card burns against my skin. There’s still a world out there, watching this unfold from the outside. A world that would be disgusted by me.
I’m disgusted by me.
“Get out of the way!” I barge past leering onlookers. “Move!”
Close enough to the fight, I can see that Noah’s limp but conscious, laying crumpled on the ground. He’s given a good defence—Lennox has a split eyebrow that’s spilling blood down his face, and his nose is gushing like a waterfall.
“Stop!” I shriek at Lennox.
He glowers over his shoulder at me. “You again. Come to watch the show?”
“Leave him alone, Nox. This was all a mistake.”
“Mistake?” Lennox swipes blood from his eyeline. “Did you set this up, huh? Is this some kind of game?”
“Just get away from him!”
“The son of a bitch started it.”
Launching myself at Lennox before he can resume pounding Noah into a pulp, I land on his back. My legs cinch around him as I squeeze his neck, attempting to throw him off balance.
He hisses a curse and easily tosses me into the air, causing me to slam to the ground. My bones creak in protest at the hard landing. Teeth gritted, I roll onto my knees and crawl my way back to them.
Lennox and Noah are grappling again, a sea of angry voices spurring them on. But it’s the fear in Noah’s eyes that hits me like a tonne of bricks. So I throw myself at Lennox again.
This time, he hits the ground from our collision. We twist and roll, sliding through a wet mudslide caused by the flooding. I get in a decent hit before he starts to choke me.
“You have ruined everything,” Lennox growls. “Taking my sanity wasn’t enough, was it? You had to take my family from me too.”
I buck up and down, attempting to throw him off. There’s a blur of movement before something crashes into him. Lennox is torn from my body, now tangled up in Noah’s long limbs.
Noah’s caught him off guard and regained the upper hand. The pair resume beating each other to death as I try to gain enough purchase to intervene.
“Break it up!” Elon’s voice booms.
Several guards swarm all at once. Two are holding the reporter and her cameras far back, the combined brawn of Bancroft’s remaining men circling the three of us.
When Elon raises his baton, I quickly lift my hands in surrender. He spins around, turning his attention to the two brawling men.
“Enough! Stop!” he bellows.
Noah doesn’t seem to get the message. He makes it on top of Lennox, slamming a bloody fist into his jaw. Two guards have to seize his arms to drag him off, but he keeps struggling.
When he manages to punch one of them, a black taser is pulled free.
“Stop!” I shout frantically.
The taser connects with Noah’s midsection first. He jerks midair, his knees crumpling as he lands on the muddy lawn with a grunt.
Elon spins to yell at his subordinate. “Stand down! We have reporters here.”
I recognise the asshole he’s admonishing. It’s Kieran, the same one who hit me and groped Taylor without a care in the world.
The red-faced brute completely disregards Elon’s order. Kieran hits Noah with the taser again, this time directly in the chest. I watch in horror as his limbs convulse and spit trickles from the corners of his mouth. Teeth bared, Kieran targets him for several painstaking seconds.
Hands clutching his chest, Noah struggles to stand back up before falling backwards onto the ground again. He’s bug-eyed and breathless. That’s when a vague memory of him mentioning his weak heart slams into me.
“Noah!” I screech.
Elon reprimands Kieran as onlooking patients begin to scream. Eventually, two other guards have to drag Kieran backwards, the taser torn from his hands. In all the commotion, it falls to the ground.
“What are you thinking?” Elon clamours.
“Insubordination, sir!” Kieran splutters, shoving off his co-workers.
Still cowering on the ground, I watch Elon fling his arms around, gesturing wildly in anger. I’ve never seen him so enraged before.
“He was down!”
“Patient was out of control,” Kieran insists.
“You damn knucklehead. We’re being filmed!”
Between their arguing and the patients crowded around in every direction, no one is paying attention to Noah. He’s clawing at his chest like an elephant is sitting on it, a hiss coming from his throat.
“Hey!” I fume at the bickering guards. “Help him!”
When I try to move closer, Elon reacts. I’m shoved down and pinned with a foot in the centre of my back. My lungs heave, compressed against the wet ground by his bodyweight.
Any sounds I was able to make dry up. Lennox is slumped over while Elon shouts at his men, gesturing around at the chaos. Still, no one pays any attention to Noah. His grip on his chest slackens, and he eventually goes limp.
“You think a good time to get that out is in front of a film crew?” Elon rages on. “You’re supposed to be discreet!”
When Kieran spots Noah’s limp form, the red flush on his face pales. “Uh, sir?”
“I don’t want to hear another word from you!”
“Sir, the patient…”
All eyes finally turn to Noah. Through the sheen of tears bubbling in my eyes, I can see he’s now still and lifeless. Elon growls a curse, his foot lifting from my back. He quickly kneels down beside Noah to check his pulse.
“Dammit,” he mutters. “Radio the medical wing for support.”
I drag myself upright as Elon begins to deliver chest compressions. The other guards are trying to herd patients away from the show, but there’s resistance. Everyone wants to see the drama.
Determination fuelling my sore body, I claw my way through gelatinous mud. Noah isn’t breathing, curled up at an awkward angle on his side, head twisted and legs splayed. Horror is pouring into me in a relentless wave.
“Come on,” I plead.
The panic around us is intensifying. All noise fades into the background as I wait for Noah to take a breath. Elon’s grunting with each deep compression, his subordinates anxiously watching.
“Get them out of here,” he barks over his shoulder.
All eyes turn to us.
“No!” I protest.
Shuffling away from the armed guards approaching, I’m split between watching them and Noah’s still-lifeless pile on the ground. Sweat drips from Elon’s face as he continues to administer CPR.
Desperately searching around, my gaze lands on the taser that was dropped in the hubbub. Kieran attempts to block my lunge, trying to retake his weapon, but I slide across the lawn to reach it first.
My hand grasps the black and yellow handle. Kieran stands over me, trying to snatch it from my hands. Teeth bared, I slam it into his cargo-clad thigh and deploy a shock.
“Shit!” he squalls.
Seeing him jerk and thrash before hitting the ground only spurs me on. The other guards react in shock, cursing and trying to reach their colleague. I’m about to hit him again when someone hoists me up from behind, prising the taser from my hands.
“Miss Bennet. Causing trouble yet again.”
The warden himself has appeared to grab hold of me, eyeing my dousing of mud with distaste. I struggle, attempting to lash out at him. He swiftly hands me off to his guards.
“Control her!”
I turn feral. Kicking, screaming, throwing out every insult under the sun. Noah still isn’t moving. Elon stops trying to resuscitate him to check his pulse again. Sweat dripping down his temples, he swears quietly and resumes compressions.
Kieran is still flopped across the ground, twitching all over as a fellow guard tries to help him sit up. He’s keeping a keen eye on Noah.
“Elon?” Davis asks.
He pauses briefly to recheck Noah’s pulse. “Nothing, sir.”
“Keep going. We have eyes on us.”
In the distance, I can hear Bancroft’s best imitation of a politician’s voice, trying to distract the journalist and her team. They’re trapped behind a wall of muscle holding them out of sight.
When the medical team arrives, Elon steps aside, Doctor Hall and his team quickly surrounding Noah to intervene. I get one last look before he vanishes behind them.
His mouth is hanging open, but it’s his bloodshot eyes that drag me into a living nightmare. Wide but empty. There’s no brimming sadness anymore.
Lifeless.
Gone.
Joining his men in a huddle, Elon looks contrite as Davis turns his hard stare on them all.
“How on earth did this happen?”
Elon wipes sweat from his brow. “Just… a little hiccup, sir.”
“A hiccup?” I howl like a banshee. “He’s fucking dead!”
“Shut it, Ripley.” Elon flashes me a grimace.
“Or what? Are you going to kill me too?”
“Don’t tempt me!”
Davis casts a disbelieving look around the scene we’ve created. “Clean this shit up. The cameras can’t see.”
His callous tone pushes me to my breaking point. I stomp down on the foot of the guard still holding me then elbow him sharply in the gut. There’s a satisfying grunt before the arms banded around me slacken.
I take advantage of the opening and lunge forward. Davis can’t duck in time to avoid me. I clutch him by his suit jacket, determined to inflict any amount of damage. But he looks more disgruntled by the mud I’m covering him in than anything else.
“He killed Noah!”
“Enough,” Davis replies tersely.
“No! It’s not!”
“This is the final straw, Miss Bennet.”
Rage consumes me like flesh-eating bacteria finding a tasty new host. I don’t care. He can do what he wants. Playing their game hasn’t saved me, it’s damned me. Along with everyone I’ve thrown into the line of fire along the way.
“You know what?” I lose all sense of self-preservation as I rant in his face. “The world is going to know what happened here. What’s been happening here. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Is that so?” Davis smiles snootily.
“You think I’m scared?”
“Perhaps you should be.”
“Well I’m not!”
He dismisses me with a head shake. “Take her away.”
Releasing him, I try to duck from the unknown hands attempting to grab me once more, but my wrists are yanked backwards then swiftly cuffed in place. Davis watches on, a seed of a smile playing on his lips.
“Consequences, Miss Bennet.” He leans in to gloat. “You’ve run that loud mouth of yours for the last time. There will be no one to listen where you’re going.”
I won’t let him see even a crack of fear. He’d enjoy the satisfaction far too much. Keeping my head held high, I hold eye contact. Davis clicks his tongue in disappointment.
“Foolish child.”
“What about this one?” Elon calls.
Looking away from me, Davis turns his attention to Lennox. He’s now been forced to his knees, trails of blood still tracking down his face. Elon forcibly twists his arms behind his back to restrain him.
“Mr Nash.” Davis sighs in a distinctly disappointed way. “I should’ve known when I signed your transfer papers that you’d be nothing but trouble.”
Lennox curls his lip in disgust. “You’re running a sinking ship, Warden.”
“Then I’d better start plugging those holes, hadn’t I?” Davis gestures between us. “Take them both down.”
“Where?” Elon asks with a slowly blossoming grin.
I can feel the thud of the final nail being hammered into my coffin. It isn’t audible, though. The sound boomerangs around in my mind, bouncing from each dark corner, collecting every last scrap of evidence to doom me to this fate.
“There’s a cell in the Z wing with their names on it.”