Ghost Planet Page 14
Murphy pressed me back down on the bed, giving me a soft, teasing kiss. He shifted his body over me and I felt him coming to life again.
He rubbed his cheek against mine and worked himself back inside me without any guidance. I moaned, protesting weakly, “I want to talk.”
“Go ahead, I love listening to you talk.” Nuzzling my ear, he began to rock against me. Just as I was letting go, giving in again to the rhythm of his body, he hesitated.
“It’s important to me that you want this, love. I know you have concerns—doubts—about us. But I don’t want you to have regrets about—this.”
I took a deep breath and let it out, trailing my fingers down his back. “I don’t know that it’s the right thing, Murphy, diving in like this when we’re caught in this trap. When there are so many unanswered questions. But no, I don’t regret it. For a week I thought I was dying. Right now I feel more alive than I’ve ever felt.”
“I feel exactly the same,” he breathed, raising goose bumps on my arms. “You’ve woken up every cell in my body.”
He kissed me harder. His thrusts picked up speed and I matched him, coiling arms and legs around him to lock into his rhythm. At the moment of zero gravity he rolled onto his back, pulling me with him, and the movement of our bodies forced him deeper. I gave a strangled cry at the sharp, exquisite sensation.
We drifted slowly back down to the planet. I gave a murmur of contentment and burrowed against him. He wrapped me in his arms and kissed my forehead.
“They don’t let me out of my cell, ever.” He whispered low in my ear. “Not until now. It’s going to fall to you to find a way out of here. Give it all your attention, and I will too. We have to leave here as soon as possible.”
As I opened my mouth to demand he tell me what the hell was going on, the door hissed. In strode two security guards, neither of them Sarah. Murphy shifted his body so I was between him and the wall. The lights came up all the way, momentarily blinding me.
“That looks cozy,” chuckled the big guard from the med lab. “Get up and get dressed, doc. Visiting hours are over.”
Murphy reached down to the foot of the bed for the blanket, pulling it over me before he got up.
The look he cast back on his way out the door left me shaking in the empty bed.
* * *
I had no prayer of sleeping. To have Murphy wrenched out of my arms at that moment, after warmth and closeness and connection, left me feeling sick with loneliness.
More than that, he had frightened me. He knew something I didn’t—something he was afraid to tell me. The stuff I knew about was bad enough. If I didn’t come up with some answers for Mitchell, she was going to try detachment. Did I dare tell her about our theory?
I felt like I’d just dozed off when breakfast arrived the next morning. Any hope of a nap was given up when Sarah arrived shortly after. But when I saw what she’d brought me I forgave her. Real clothes. Not my own, but all the right sizes—lightweight pants with an overabundance of pockets, like the scientists wore in the field, and a t-shirt and brown sweater with long bell sleeves. I couldn’t help wondering what had happened to the person who’d worn them before me.
“We’re going outside today,” Sarah announced.
I glanced up, wondering if I’d misunderstood. “Out of the building?”
“For a walk on the grounds. Get dressed.”
I complied as quickly as I could, afraid whoever was allowing this might change their mind, and she led me out into the corridor. The exam rooms, and Murphy, were to the left, but this time we headed right, toward the nurses’ station.
“Aren’t we forgetting something?” I asked her.
“He’s coming too, but no contact today.”
I looked back at his door. “Why not?”
“You’re asking the wrong person.”
I gave up trying to figure out what the White Witch was up to and determined to make the most of the time outside. I needed the air—Murphy probably more so than me—and it would give us a chance to focus on our escape.
We navigated a confusing web of identical beige corridors toward the front of the building. I would never have found my way back on my own. We passed through a large, open lobby that felt like something you’d find in a mountain lodge. There were two fireplaces, exposed wood beams, and a slate floor. Half a dozen people lounged around the lobby, drinking coffee and chatting.
Outside, on the wide stone steps of the entry, I stood and breathed in the damp air.
The institute was a sprawling, two-story building in the same style as the counseling center, with a dark metal roof, heavy wood beams, and natural stone all incorporated into the design. Landscaped grounds surrounded the building, but beyond that was virgin forest in every direction.
The facility was elaborate, with expensive refinements—private contractors had deep pockets. Ardagh 1 had been touted as a model public/private partnership, governed by an elected official and an ERP administrator appointed by John Ardagh and his board of directors.
I remembered Murphy had bemoaned the autonomy of the contractor partners, and I wondered if Ardagh himself was aware of what went on in facilities like these. He and his wife had relocated to Ardagh 1 around the time the protocol had gone into effect, but she’d died in the shuttle accident Mitchell had mentioned, and after that he’d become reclusive.
Sarah started down the steps and I followed her. We walked along a gravel path that wound through the grounds, a maze of rock gardens, low shrubs and flowering bushes, and picturesque little benches. At least half of the bushes were dry and dead-looking, reminding me of the tree corpses lining the street in New Seattle.
Glancing back I saw Sarah’s ghost trailing us. Back farther, just exiting the building, were a couple of guards leading a familiar dark-haired figure. I lost sight of them when we left the grounds to walk on one of the forest trails. Yet somehow, despite the fact Murphy was as much a prisoner as I was, there was reassurance in his proximity. I was no longer in this alone.
“I’m going to help you,” Sarah said suddenly.
I slowed, my eyes darting to her face. She kept her eyes on the bark-covered trail. “Keep walking.”
Matching her stride, I replied, “Help me?”
“You want to get out of here?”
My heart leapt so violently I think I bounced. “Absolutely.”
“The people I work for want you. We’re going to try and get you out.”
“What people?” I asked, breathless and confused. “Don’t you work for Mitchell?”
She shook her head. “I work for an underground group. I keep an eye on her for them. They have a hidden colony—a sanctuary for ghosts trying to escape the protocol.”
“Are you serious? Why are they interested in me?”
Her eyes flickered over me. “I told them about you—told them you were different than the others here, that we should get you out before they kill you. They already knew all about you.”
I stared at her. “How?”
She waited for a group of walkers to pass us before replying, “I don’t know, but fucking lucky for you. They don’t like doing stuff like this. Too exposed. They must want you pretty bad.”
As we looped back toward the facility, I digested this with a mix of relief and wariness. “I want out of here, Sarah, more than anything, but—what is it they want from me?”
“I’ll tell you what I can the next time we’re out. But I don’t have time to spell things out for you. Dr. Mitchell keeps a close eye on you, and I can’t risk talking to you inside anymore.”
“Can you at least tell me they don’t mean to hurt me? Experiment on me, or anything like that?”
The desperation in my voice broke through her hard veneer. “It’s not like that there. You’ll have to trust me.”
I wanted to touch her arm, make her look at me. But she had me scared they were watching us even now. “It would be easier to trust you if I understood why you care what happens to me.”
I hated diving in blind. I hated that she wouldn’t answer my questions. The whole thing was vague and risky, bordering on suspicious. But we had to get out soon; Murphy had made that clear. I had to decide for both of us.
“This plan includes Murphy, right?”
“No choice about that, unless you know something I don’t.”
“So what happens next?”
“I’m still working out the details. But you need to understand—I can’t do it for you. I can’t risk them figuring out I’m involved. I can arrange the transportation, and help create an opening for you, but you’re going to have to get yourselves out of here.”
My stomach knotted as the realities began to come into focus. I was a grad student. An ex-fiancé. I drank tea, studied, and read old books in my spare time. Nothing had prepared me for this. I remembered what Murphy had said about my alien incarnation being a chance at a new life. The truth was that a new life had come for me, ready or not.
“Okay,” I agreed. “It’s a lot more than I had fifteen minutes ago.”
We’d almost made it back to the main grounds now, and Murphy and his two guards waited near the trailhead. He looked tired and harassed, and I tried to think how I might persuade Mitchell to let me see him, so I could tell him what Sarah was planning.
“Don’t talk about this with anyone,” Sarah muttered, startling me. “No matter how careful you think you’re being, it’s not careful enough.”
Now I wondered if Mitchell had been able to hear my conversations with Murphy. If so, she already knew we were trying to find a way out. I didn’t even want to think about what other things she knew about us.
As we drew up even with Murphy and his guards, I recognized Vasco, the medical lab guard. In contrast to Sarah’s tight, controlled demeanor, Vasco seemed easygoing and friendly. But I could always feel his eyes on me in the lab, and he made me nervous.
“How was your walk, ladies?” he asked. I felt grateful for the fact I had on proper clothes today.
“Refreshing, thanks,” replied Sarah. “How are the crabs?”
Vasco and the other guard chuckled. “Why don’t you like me, Oliver?”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “Who says I don’t like you?”
“Come on, let’s be friends. I’ll take your shift tonight, and you can sneak off to the woods to do whatever it is you do out there.”
I cast her an anxious glance. Maybe she wasn’t as discreet as she thought she was. But the comment didn’t seem to faze her.
“Aw, you’d do that for me?”
“Sure I would.” The big guard’s eyes raked over me, an action that wasn’t lost on Murphy. His brow darkened with anger, arm tensing in Vasco’s grip.
I shot him a pleading look. Don’t make trouble. Not now. Our eyes met and his expression softened, but I didn’t like how desperate he looked.
Sarah guided me back toward the building. “Maybe another time, asshole.”
I glanced over my shoulder and watched them dragging Murphy along behind us, with Sarah’s ghost following them. It occurred to me a couple people were missing.
“Where are the other guards’ ghosts?” I asked her.
“We’re allowed to drug them when we’re escorting inmates.”
“You didn’t drug yours.”
“He doesn’t make trouble.”
Something in her voice drew my eyes back to her face. “Who is he?”
She hesitated before replying, “My brother. Zack.”
We’d almost reached the steps to the entrance, and I knew she’d stop talking once we were inside. “Can I ask how he died?”
She frowned. “Which time?”
I shook my head, confused.
“In an explosion,” she continued. “At a base in Africa.”
“What did you mean by ‘which time’?”
She moved ahead of me onto the steps and I assumed the conversation was over. But I heard her mutter, “The first Zack ghost offed himself.”
Shuddering, I recalled the night of my reunion with Murphy. He had asked if it was me. He had asked if I remembered New Seattle. I had suddenly appeared in his room after a week of separation. He was afraid I’d died. That he was looking at a new Elizabeth. What would he have felt about her—an Elizabeth who was neither the original nor her replacement?
No wonder people went crazy here.
* * *
For the next week I spoke to neither Mitchell nor Murphy. My days were occupied with research, walks with Sarah, and continued medical exams. The scans were ridiculously repetitive and I assumed the researchers were comparing them. But I’d given up trying to figure out what they were looking for.
I missed Murphy. I caught glimpses of him on our walks, and never forgot for a second he was in the room right next to mine. Each night I lay awake thinking about him. Missing his company, and his warm hands and lips.
Though I didn’t miss Mitchell, I did wonder why she’d suddenly lost interest in me. I wondered if she’d gotten hold of the same idea we had about interaction and detachment. It could explain why she had allowed us to spend time together. But then why had the visits stopped?
I would have been climbing the walls like Murphy had it not been for Sarah’s escape plan. Though I never got far in questioning her about the group that was going to help us, she had told me they wanted the same thing I did—to find a way for ghosts to detach. This made me feel better about my decision to accept her help, but I decided it was time to press for details about her plan.
The orderly was late with my breakfast the next morning, and in scrambling to get dressed before Sarah showed up I accidentally kicked one of my shoes under the bed. Groaning in annoyance, I crouched down and swept my hand back and forth over the floor, searching.
As my fingers grazed my shoe, I also felt something … strange. Recoiling with surprise, I bent down to peer underneath. There was a lump of something—I assumed a stray blanket or item of clothing.
I reached for it, but recoiled again. What the hell?
It didn’t feel right. It didn’t look right. And it was stuck, like it had been glued to the floor.
Gingerly, I reached under again. I got a handful of whatever it was and yanked. Pieces of it came loose in my hand and I drew it out, ignoring the creeping feeling along my spine.
I stared at it, astonished. Clover. I was holding a bunch of clover. Rubbing it between my fingers, I held it to my nose. Green and sweet-smelling. Alive, until a second ago.
My door slid open behind me, and on impulse I thrust the fistful of green back under the bed and came out with my shoe.
I turned to find Vasco standing over me.
Truth and Lies
The guard gave me a quizzical smile. He had olive skin and stunningly white teeth. He must have been a bodybuilder because he was huge. “What are you doing down there?”
I held up the shoe.
“Hmm. Dr. Mitchell’s got Sarah working a pickup today, so you’re with me.”
I studied him, feeling wary. Sarah hadn’t mentioned anything about being away.
“Where are we going?”
“To dinner and a movie.” He smirked. “You walk mornings, right? Let’s go.”
I opened my mouth to tell him I wasn’t feeling well. But I hesitated. Wasn’t it possible this had something to do with our escape? I couldn’t imagine Sarah would trust this guy to help us. But what if she had set it up? Maybe we wouldn’t get another chance for a while. Maybe not at all.
I put on my shoes and followed him out into the corridor.
It was a chilly, drizzly morning, and except for a couple of groundskeepers digging up the dead bushes, the grounds were deserted. We took a trail I’d never been on with Sarah, and instead of looping back toward the facility it kept going straight.
Nervous, I glanced behind, and was relieved to see Murphy and a guard following twenty or so
meters back.
“You don’t need to worry about them,” muttered Vasco. “Or anyone else. I’ve got a buddy on the grid this morning.”
What was that supposed to mean? “Um, okay.”
He gazed down at me, chuckling. “Not getting cold feet, are you? Come on, we’re almost there.”
Despite the chilly air I felt sweat trickling down the back of my neck. He had to be in on Sarah’s plan, didn’t he?
Soon the groomed trail faded to a well-worn footpath, and that emptied into an overgrown clearing with a shed to one side. The clearing had been claimed by giant ferns, all dead now—a shaggy, red-brown blanket contrasting with the evergreens.
“Where are we?” I asked as he made for the shed.
“Old transport pad.” That seemed promising and I breathed a little easier. “No one uses it anymore. They cleared another one when Dr. Mitchell picked the site for her ghost motel.”
The shed was nearly empty, but spotless and new, like everything else on the planet. A desk and a single chair rested in the middle of the floor.
Vasco closed the door behind us and I spun around. He was suddenly right on top of me, pushing me back against the edge of the desk, lifting me onto it as his mouth came down on mine.
I bit his lip and slammed my hands against his chest—which did nothing but piss him off.
“What the fuck?” He wiped blood from his lip and shoved me down. My head smacked the desktop so hard my eyes watered. “Is this how you want to play?”
“Get off!” I yelled, trying to dig my knee into his groin. But he was strong, wrestling with me and working my clothes off at the same time.
The door to the shed smashed open and Murphy burst through it.
“Get off her!” he shouted.
His arms were restrained behind his back, and his guard caught hold of him and zapped him with a stun stick. He dropped to the floor with a groan.
“Get out of here, Gus!” Vasco snapped. “We don’t need a fucking audience.”
“Looks to me like you could use a hand. I thought Oliver said she was into this.”