Nixon Center, but it was his first time alone. He took a last pull off the bottle of bourbon and sheathed his hunting knife.
One could never be too careful.
* * * * *
The soothing sound of a running fountain filled the meditation garden. Zach sat, head in hands, on the eucalyptus bench overlooking the koi pond yet to be stocked for the summer. The decision hadn’t been easy, but he had agreed to let Nixon start the treatment.
“Hey.” A soft, female voice came from behind and he turned around to see Miranda standing with her hands in her uniform pants pockets.
“Hey.” He checked for signs of Reid or Nixon.
“Mind if I sit?”
He pushed over for her to have a place next to him on the bench and tried to look less nervous. Everything he did against the center risked Allison . “How’s the reading going?” Small talk. That’s all this is. Reid had separated them once already.
She loosened her tight ponytail and rubbed her temples. “It’s killing me. My head hurts worse than my arm. “I don’t know how you got through it.”
He wanted to tell her that he didn’t do either the blood work or the reading, but was keeping out of it. Especially with Allison’s upcoming treatment.
“So, who is Allison?” Miranda asked.
Had he said her name out loud?
“Reid said that Dr. Nixon wanted to meet you in Allison’s room. You know a patient here?”
He’d forgotten that Reid had mentioned her. “Allison is my wife. She has cancer.” He hadn’t realized how much he needed to talk about it.
Miranda frowned. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”
Zach held up his hand. “…have any way of knowing. It’s okay.”
A palpable tension grew between them in the subsequent moment of silence.
Miranda’s expression grew sad and longing. “I lost my daughter almost a year ago.”
He hadn’t asked for a confession and didn’t want to get close to her, but something about her was genuine and he could see she needed to talk. “What happened?”
“She was stillborn.”
He resisted wiping the tear from her cheek. “Do they know what happened?”
Miranda nodded. “They tell me it was a genetic disorder, some CR something or other that I’m a carrier for. It’s rare.”
CRA-3. Shit.
Zach recalled his conversation with Nixon. Miranda was the key to the cure, CRA-3 deficient. She’d never see more than those binders. The job was a fake. A way to get her here. How did Nixon know? He wanted to tell her to leave, to run and never look back, but his protective instinct for Allison wouldn’t let him warn her. There were too many unanswered questions. Too great a personal risk .
“Zach, are you all right?”
He’d done a poor job at hiding his thoughts and didn’t know what to say next. Reid stepped out from behind the bushes and Zach was relieved not to have to say anything at all.
11 .
Reid shook his head and clucked his tongue most of the way to the basement. “You have a knack for sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, Keller.”
“I wasn’t looking for her. She found me.”
Reid held up his hand. “Take it up with Nixon. He told me from now on you’re in charge of the ward.” He swiped the magnetic stripe on his badge through the key card reader and entered.
The large room embodied his worst fear. Human captivity. The darkest side of Nixon’s experiment . Twelve beds, six on each side, jutted out from the walls with nothing separating them except for blue and white curtains hanging from tracks in the ceiling. Five of the beds were occupied. Miranda, the sixth victim, likely on her way. Four-point leather restraints held them all in their places.
Reid pulled a plastic food service cart from behind the door. “I had Ben do the honors of whipping up lunch, but in the future, you’ll handle it. You know where the microwave is.” He laughed and lined up four plastic bowls of gelatinous, brown mush.
Zach wrinkled his nose. “They’re expected to eat
One could never be too careful.
* * * * *
The soothing sound of a running fountain filled the meditation garden. Zach sat, head in hands, on the eucalyptus bench overlooking the koi pond yet to be stocked for the summer. The decision hadn’t been easy, but he had agreed to let Nixon start the treatment.
“Hey.” A soft, female voice came from behind and he turned around to see Miranda standing with her hands in her uniform pants pockets.
“Hey.” He checked for signs of Reid or Nixon.
“Mind if I sit?”
He pushed over for her to have a place next to him on the bench and tried to look less nervous. Everything he did against the center risked Allison . “How’s the reading going?” Small talk. That’s all this is. Reid had separated them once already.
She loosened her tight ponytail and rubbed her temples. “It’s killing me. My head hurts worse than my arm. “I don’t know how you got through it.”
He wanted to tell her that he didn’t do either the blood work or the reading, but was keeping out of it. Especially with Allison’s upcoming treatment.
“So, who is Allison?” Miranda asked.
Had he said her name out loud?
“Reid said that Dr. Nixon wanted to meet you in Allison’s room. You know a patient here?”
He’d forgotten that Reid had mentioned her. “Allison is my wife. She has cancer.” He hadn’t realized how much he needed to talk about it.
Miranda frowned. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”
Zach held up his hand. “…have any way of knowing. It’s okay.”
A palpable tension grew between them in the subsequent moment of silence.
Miranda’s expression grew sad and longing. “I lost my daughter almost a year ago.”
He hadn’t asked for a confession and didn’t want to get close to her, but something about her was genuine and he could see she needed to talk. “What happened?”
“She was stillborn.”
He resisted wiping the tear from her cheek. “Do they know what happened?”
Miranda nodded. “They tell me it was a genetic disorder, some CR something or other that I’m a carrier for. It’s rare.”
CRA-3. Shit.
Zach recalled his conversation with Nixon. Miranda was the key to the cure, CRA-3 deficient. She’d never see more than those binders. The job was a fake. A way to get her here. How did Nixon know? He wanted to tell her to leave, to run and never look back, but his protective instinct for Allison wouldn’t let him warn her. There were too many unanswered questions. Too great a personal risk .
“Zach, are you all right?”
He’d done a poor job at hiding his thoughts and didn’t know what to say next. Reid stepped out from behind the bushes and Zach was relieved not to have to say anything at all.
11 .
Reid shook his head and clucked his tongue most of the way to the basement. “You have a knack for sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, Keller.”
“I wasn’t looking for her. She found me.”
Reid held up his hand. “Take it up with Nixon. He told me from now on you’re in charge of the ward.” He swiped the magnetic stripe on his badge through the key card reader and entered.
The large room embodied his worst fear. Human captivity. The darkest side of Nixon’s experiment . Twelve beds, six on each side, jutted out from the walls with nothing separating them except for blue and white curtains hanging from tracks in the ceiling. Five of the beds were occupied. Miranda, the sixth victim, likely on her way. Four-point leather restraints held them all in their places.
Reid pulled a plastic food service cart from behind the door. “I had Ben do the honors of whipping up lunch, but in the future, you’ll handle it. You know where the microwave is.” He laughed and lined up four plastic bowls of gelatinous, brown mush.
Zach wrinkled his nose. “They’re expected to eat
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