Ann Marie's Asylum (Master and Apprentice Book 1) (3 page)

“Mom, I’m going to go in the other room to do the bills,” Ann Marie said. She collected all the paperwork into a folder that she had organized for the household.

“Good,” said Lori, holding her hand over the phone for a moment. “I’m glad you’re finally getting out a little.”

“You didn’t hear me. I said I was just going in the other room to do the bills.”

“Don’t be out too late, baby,” Lori said before quickly devoting her attention back to the phone. Then she started howling with laughter again. She sounded like she was beginning to get very drunk.

It was a bit quieter in the adjacent room of their apartment but Ann Marie could still hear her mom’s drunken voice and all the laughter. After she finished with the household bills, she sat for a moment at the window. It struck her how far away she and her mom were from home.

It also occurred to her that her mom had received regular calls from friends back home while Ann Marie hadn’t gotten a single phone call or inquiry about her new job from anyone. Philadelphia had always loved her social butterfly of a mother but after just a few months, the city had forgotten her entirely.

To take her mind off that and her mom’s drunken laughter, Ann Marie put on her headphones and took to the internet. She had been quietly obsessing about a certain name for several days.
Dade Harkenrider
had been playing in a loop in her head as though the syllables were endowed with special powers. She kept hearing the name and even caught herself mouthing the syllables out subconsciously. It felt strangely exciting just to say the name to herself. She chalked it up to her compulsive nature.

She entered “Dade Harkenrider is Dr. Death,” into the internet search engine.

She felt her heart beat in her chest when she saw all the thousands of webpages and articles spring up in a fraction of a second. “The Antichrist Lives in Southern California!” read one of the headlines on an internet conspiracy page. “Dr. Death and the Laboratory of Doom,” caught her eye as well. She clicked on: “Is Harkenrider the Son of a Prominent Southern California Witch?” To her disappointment, the site had been closed with no further information.

“
The Definitive Dr. Death Archive
,” seemed the most comprehensive, with articles, photos and videos related to the mysterious scientist. At the top of the webpage, Ann Marie read:

Dade Harkenrider was born under mysterious circumstances to a known leader in the occult and witchcraft community, Elaine Harkenrider. There is no record of a birth certificate. We believe these records were destroyed either by his mother or the man who would later become his guardian, Dr. Bernard Mengel. Dr. Mengel raised Harkenrider from age six after his mother’s disappearance. Mengel is a known murderer and war criminal and we believe his sick scientific experiments go all the way back to the nazis. He currently holds a “special advisor” role at the Asylum Corporation.

Scrolling down, she saw a rough digital photograph showing someone, purportedly Harkenrider, appearing in two locations roughly twenty feet away from one another. The caption read:
Has Dr. Death cloned himself?

There was another grainy photo of Harkenrider standing in front of an old church consumed in flames. Even though the shot didn’t have much detail, Ann Marie could see the black hair and steel features. He was wearing black sunglasses even though the photograph had clearly been taken at night.

In the background of the picture, there was an odd vehicle, a six-wheeled armored machine that looked like a cross between a tank and an invading spaceship. It looked like the thing had the Asylum Corporation logo on the side. The website claimed the thing was Harkenrider’s personal vehicle, a one-of-a-kind military assault prototype. The website also alleged that the burning church had been the headquarters of a massive human trafficking ring.

“Who’s that guy, baby? He’s hot,” her mom said, standing behind her and pointing to the screen. Quite drunk by that point, she had to balance herself on Ann Marie’s shoulders. “I thought you were going out tonight.”

“Like I said,” her daughter told her, “I was going into the other room to do our bills.” She added, “I noticed that nobody had done it while I was at work.”

“Sorry baby but you know how bad I am with numbers. I would just screw it all up. Besides, you’re so good at it!” After that, Lori’s phone rang again and she started in a new conversation with another one of her old friends. She poured herself another drink and sat back down at the kitchen table.

Ann Marie noticed one last video at the bottom of the Dr. Death Internet Archive. When she opened it up, the sound of a man screaming his lungs out was so loud that it made the speakers on the computer crack. Ann Marie nearly jumped out of her seat. Her hand dove to the volume to lower it.

The video was taken in the dark, in what looked like one of LA’s many post-industrial nearly demilitarized zones. The man screaming was also flying through the air. It looked like he had been tossed by a catapult. Below him was the vague outline of a man. It certainly could have been her new boss.

...

After Ann Marie pushed the last thumbtack into the drywall, she took a step back and admired the artwork in her new, very own, personal laboratory. Her room at The Asylum now had some personal flavor. She hoped that the thirty-six by forty-eight inch poster of a rapper yelling into a solid gold microphone wouldn’t get her into trouble with the corporation. She suspected that there had to be some rule at some level that restricted her expression on the walls. However, she remembered some sage advice from her mother, who had told her, “Honey, it is much better to ask for forgiveness than permission.”

The rapper in the poster, ThugLUV, had a rather notorious reputation with the police and called openly for killing some of them. The more Anne Marie thought about it, the more the poster seemed like a bad idea. She hadn’t even met her new boss and didn’t know what to make of his reputation. She thought she was pushing her luck by just having her job at age seventeen. She started to pull one of the thumbtacks out to take down the poster.

“Why are you taking that down?” Asked Dr. Dade Harkenrider. He was standing in the frame of the door.

The first thing she noticed was the pair of black sunglasses he wore inside the building. Underneath, striking features made up a rather boyish face. He was certainly handsome but there was something vaguely threatening about it. She wondered if he was younger than her mother, who was only thirty-two. His long, black lab coat was buttoned all the way up and ran down to his feet. Ann Marie had never seen one like it.

She had forgotten that he had asked her a question. When he took a step into the room, she realized that he wasn’t built like the scientists she knew. He was tall and imposing, with shoulders and arms like the plastic toy action figures she remembered her boy cousins playing with.

“I apologize,” said her boss. He seemed to be making an effort to tone down the substantial authority in his voice. “I should have properly introduced myself before just barging in on you. I’m Dade Harkenrider and I’ve been very excited to meet you. I’m grateful that you made the long trip out her from Philadelphia. I bet that wasn’t the easiest thing in the world.”

“I didn’t leave that much behind.”

“I see,” he said as though he understood something about her. “Well,” he went on, “back to my question that I asked you earlier. Why are you taking down your poster? You should want to make your new lab your own.”

Ann Marie stumbled before saying, “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think it was appropriate.”

“Appropriate for what?”

“I don’t know,” she said, sounding nervous. “I didn’t want to do anything wrong when I’m just starting out.”

Harkenrider suddenly took on a look as though he was about to say something of grave importance. He asked her, “Is it because ThugLUV promotes drug use, crime and general lawlessness?”

“Do you want me to take it down?”

“Of course not. I like it. Besides, it’s your wall to do with what you like.” He changed the subject, asking, “Have you finished with your online security training?”

“Almost done,” she answered. “I only have another four hours to go. The corporation seems to be preparing us for a full-on-assault by super advanced Martians or something.” Ann Marie was smiling and nearly rolling her eyes as though she found the training excessive and perhaps silly.

“Take it seriously,” Harkenrider told her. “Don’t listen to anyone who tells you it isn’t important.”

For just a split second, Ann Marie glanced back at the poster on her office wall before responding. “I promise,” she said just as she realized he was gone.

He had left a piece of paper on her desk. She was puzzled because she couldn’t recall him being anywhere near that area of her lab. When she looked at it, she realized that he wanted her to cook up another complex organic chemical compound. He had drawn the structure out for her by hand. She wondered how he had conceived of such a bizarre chemical and couldn’t even imagine what it could be for. One thing was certainly clear to her as a chemist. This stuff wasn’t being used for drones.

...

That evening, Ann Marie’s mom had agreed to meet her after work at the Pink Pelican Bar & Restaurant just down the hill from the lab. In her mom’s typical fashion, when she finally showed up, it was over an hour late.

“Sorry I’m late, baby! I have crazy big news!” shouted Lori Bandini on the way to the table.

Ann Marie had been sitting for quite a while, reading an article in a cell biology journal and nursing a diet soda. She had gotten very good over the years at entertaining herself.

“Is there ever a time when you don’t have crazy big news?” She asked. When her mom hugged her, Ann Marie detected a faint whiff of alcohol. She went back to reading her article after giving her mom a judgmental glance. “I can see you already started celebrating.”

“Don’t be such a bitch,” said Lori, dropping her purse on the table and picking up a menu. “What the hell did I ever do to you?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry for being late,” her mom told her in a way that seemed totally genuine. “I think I may have met the love of my life today. This could end up being one of the most important days of my entire life.”

“Did you meet Lancelot at the bar or the racetrack?” asked Ann Marie with a roll of her eyes.

“What the hell did I ever do to you besides bring you into this god-damned world, feed you from my own damned tit and make you into the genius that you are!” She seemed determined not to be dismayed by her daughter’s attitude. “I just wanted to tell my only daughter, my best friend in the world, about the man I’m falling in love with.”

“OK.”

“Well, he’s a talent agent. I met him while I was walking to the drug store to get a pack of cigarettes. He was driving the nicest red Jaguar.”

“Right out of a fairy tale.”

“He asked me if I was Kyra Vanderpump, you know, that international model from TV. I think I do kind of look like her.” She took out her compact from her purse and stared at her reflection. “I don’t know,” she said, looking doubtful for a moment. “Do you think I do?”

“I guess.”

“Anyway, he gave me a ride to get cigarettes and we had a drink together and totally hit it off.”

Ann Marie had stopped paying attention because she had spotted something out the restaurant window. Up the hill in the distance, two bright emerald-green headlights beamed down from the Asylum Laboratory. As the headlights descended the hill, Ann Marie started to recognize the vehicle. The truck looked like a six-wheeled tank. Apparently, Dade Harkenrider was on the move.

“What are you staring at?” Her mom asked her.

“I think it’s my boss. People hardly ever see him.” Ann Marie struggled to get a better look out the window. “The rumor is that he only goes out at night.”

“Sounds like my kind of guy.”

“It’s a good thing I wasn’t born with the same one track mind.”

Lori finished off the remaining portion of her cocktail in one gulp. “I’m kinda bored,” she said. “I think we should go on a mother-daughter mission.”

“What kind of mission?”

“We follow your boss. You drive.”

Ann Marie found the idea particularly appealing and, as crazy as it sounded, the plan had already occurred to her. “I don’t know,” she said. She felt compelled to be the voice of the adult in the partnership. “What if he sees us?”

“We invite him out for a drink.”

“Stop it.”

Her mom dangled the car keys in the air. “If you don’t drive,” she said as she emptied the last drops of her cocktail down her throat. “I’m taking the wheel and I’m not taking any prisoners.”

Ann Marie grabbed the keys back, saying, “Fine. I’ll drive but we keep our distance so he doesn’t see us. I know you don’t care about embarrassing yourself, but I do.”

By the time Dade Harkenrider’s black truck finished its helical descent down the big hill, Ann Marie and her mom had their engine running. When the six-wheeled machine hummed past the parking lot at The Pink Pelican, they pulled out and started to follow him down the dark stretch of Beach Boulevard.

“I’ve never seen a truck so fancy,” her mom told her. “Six wheels. Badass. I want to meet this guy.”

“You’re not meeting him. He’s my boss.”

After nearly an hour of driving, they were starting to wonder if Dade Harkenrider had any sort of destination in mind. He had taken them on what seemed to be an entirely indirect route to South Central Los Angeles. He circled some of the worst residential and industrial areas. He seemed to be looking for something in the neighborhoods, something on the telephone poles and in the graffiti. The truck would occasionally slow to a crawl at what seemed like random points in the journey. At one point, it stopped next to a vacant lot with overgrown grass and weeds taller than a man.

It was after ten and Lori was beginning to get drowsy. “Let’s go home,” she told her daughter as her eyelids started to close in the passenger seat. “He’s probably looking for a hooker.”