Chosen (Second Sight) (12 page)

“It’s not
here
,” Geoffrey said, his voice high.

“Then where is it?” Mac yelled. “
Do you want to see her die?
”

“No!” Geoffrey screamed.
 

“
Geoffrey
,” Maurice said, the warning tone clear.

These two weren’t even members. For them to see the inner workings–

“Follow me!” Geoffrey yelled and bolted toward the door.
 

Both security guards leapt out of the way as Geoffrey dashed past them and Mac charged after him.
 

The guards stood, confused, looking after them.

“Don’t just stand there,” Maurice yelled. “Go with them!”

Though Mac was sure that Isabelle wasn’t in danger of dying, the ruse had worked on Geoffrey. Even so, as he quickly descended the staircase, he couldn’t help but look down at her. She’d gone completely pale and, with all the jostling and movement, he couldn’t tell how fast she was breathing. Upstairs, he’d only had time to make sure she was breathing at all.

But when the situation had presented itself, he’d decided to take advantage of it. None of them would know what had really happened–that the reading had completely drained her. For all they knew, Isabelle had suffered a heart attack.
 

Mac could hear the security guards on the steps behind him as he followed Geoffrey into the lobby under the stares of a few shocked onlookers. Geoffrey threw the front doors open and Mac trotted after him.

Though she hadn’t made a sound, Isabelle slowly tried to raise her head.

“Stay still,” Mac whispered. “They think you’re unconscious.” Geoffrey glanced back. “Right behind you!” Mac yelled as Geoffrey turned sharply and headed down a path that looked like it led into a stand of oaks. “If you can hear me, Isabelle,” Mac tried again. “Don’t move. Keep your eyes closed.”

Though she didn’t acknowledge him, she must have heard. Her head lolled back again, just in time. The security guards had thankfully brought flashlights and one ran past him to join Geoffrey while the other ran next to him. The young man cast a couple of worried looks at Isabelle.

Up ahead, a small, white, two-story building with a green roof was just visible through the thick trees. In another few minutes they were at the front door. Geoffrey had apparently expected it to be open, turning the knob but then nearly hitting it with his face when it didn’t open. He snatched a key ring from his pocket and opened it. Inside, all was dark. As he stepped through and hit the light switch, he motioned for Mac to follow him.

“Go get the doctor!” he said to the guard who’d run with Mac. The young man sprinted out the front door and continued down the path. “This way,” Geoffrey gasped at Mac.

Geoffrey ran down the short hallway and made a quick left through an open door. As the light came on, Mac was surprised to see an examination room, fully equipped. As Geoffrey held the door, Mac strode to the table and gently laid Isabelle down on it, easing her head down on the little, white pillow. Her lips were no longer parted and some of her color had come back but she didn’t move an inch.

Good girl
, he thought.

Mac adjusted the hem of her dress and was about to ask Geoffrey for some privacy. By the time he looked up, though, Geoffrey had already disappeared from the cramped room and the door was closing.

Quickly, Mac leaned down to Isabelle’s ear.
 

“Are you all right?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” she whispered in return, starting to get up.

“No,” he said quietly, backing up to look down into her face. “Just lie there. The doctor will be here soon.”

“I don’t need a doctor,” she said, gazing up at him from tired eyes.

“I know,” Mac said. “But
I need
you to need a doctor for a little bit. I’m going to look around.”

He gave her a quick peck on the forehead and then spun toward the little cabinet with table and drawers. One after another he opened and rummaged through each storage area. Typical medical supplies. Seemingly nothing out of the ordinary and no records. Outside there were hurried footsteps. There was a quick knock on the door and then it opened. An older man with thick glasses and a grey mustache was tugging on a white lab coat as he entered.

“Doctor,” Mac said, trying to sound relieved. “She fainted.”

The doctor removed his stethoscope from a coat pocket as he approached the table.

“Are you her husband?” he asked.

“No,” Mac said.

“Wait outside,” the doctor ordered, not even bothering to look at him.

It was exactly what Mac had been expecting.

“Your name?” he was asking Isabelle as Mac exited and let the door close behind him.

Geoffrey and one of the security guards was waiting.

“She’s going to be fine,” Mac said gruffly. “No thanks to your brother.” Geoffrey backed up a step in the narrow corridor, his face rapidly cycling from worried to relieved to worried again. “Maybe you want to let him know.”

Without a word, Geoffrey backpedaled and then turned and headed toward the front door. No sooner was he gone than Mac turned to the young security guard.
 

“Thanks for getting us here,” he said, the gratitude in his voice real. Mac glanced up and down the narrow corridor. “You wouldn’t happen to know where the bathroom is, would you?” Rather than wait for an answer, Mac walked to the end of the corridor where it dead-ended in another hallway. He checked left and then right. A single bathroom with a men’s and women’s sign was two doors down but an open door lay between him and the bathroom. “Here we go,” he said pointing to the right.

He strode quickly into an office and shut the door behind him. There was a cell phone and set of keys on the desk and one of the drawers was open. Apparently the doctor had stopped here first and been in a hurry.
 

Finally a break.

Mac ignored the doctor’s desk and went straight to the horizontal filing cabinet behind the chair as the seconds ticked by in his head. He yanked the long, heavy drawer sideways. There, as he’d thought, were patient records–maybe a hundred of them. Even though he went directly to the M’s and looked for Kayla, she wasn’t there. In fact, as he let his fingers run quickly across the tops of the color-coded, manila files, he realized there weren’t enough. Not for the number of people who were here. Not even for the number of pregnant women and their children.
 

Mac quickly closed it, scanned the room, and felt a little timer go off in the back of his head. Quietly, he opened the office door. The hallway was empty. He stepped out, rounded the corner, and joined the security guard.
 

The majority of the medical records had to be elsewhere
. He glanced toward the front door.
Given the size of this little infirmary, there had to be another facility
. It just wasn’t big enough to deal with the population he’d seen or the types of emergencies that had to be happening–broken bones, stitches. He’d had no idea this place existed. H
ow many more might there be? The guard had sprinted further down the path to find the doctor. What was in that direction?

The door to the exam room opened and the doctor exited, closing the door behind him. He passed Mac and was about to disappear around the corner.

“Doctor?” Mac called after him.

The man stopped and turned.

“Oh,” he said, tiredly. “I took a blood sample and we’ll run some tests. Go ahead and take her home.”

Then the doctor was gone.

“Nice bedside manner,” Mac muttered.

The guard made no reaction.

Mac knocked on the exam room door.

“Come in,” Isabelle said.

She was standing just beyond the door, holding a couple of large tissues.
 

“I was just about to open it,” she said quietly, looking past Mac to the corridor. Then she whispered. “Do you have my gloves?”

• • • • •

Maurice crushed out his cigarette on the veranda railing. In the darkness, the bright red glow of ashes flared, spread, and died out. Two years of nail-biting, gum-chewing and nicotine patches down the tubes.

“At least wait for the results of the blood test,” Geoffrey pleaded from behind. “You don’t know that anything’s wrong.”

Maurice shook his head and turned back to the bright light of the house.

“I know what I know,” he said. “And I know something’s not right.”

“You saw her, didn’t you?” Geoffrey asked. “Can you imagine what her children would look like?”

“Of course, I can imagine,” Maurice said. “Who’s the geneticist?”

It didn’t take DNA to know her children would be striking. And her boyfriend obviously had a good set of genes as well.

But the fainting? Even the youngest ones could take the lowest setting of the shock wand. They howled and squealed but they didn’t pass out. For all he knew, Isabelle had a congenital heart complication.
 

Plus the gloves? What was the reason for those? She hadn’t wanted to reveal her hands. He wasn’t aware of any disease that might make someone’s hands more susceptible to shock or electricity or even pain.

And the way Mac had acted about the punishment. It was as if he’d known it would be a problem. He’d done a good job of catching her–unless he’d already known she was going to faint.

“Just wait for the lab results,” Geoffrey whined. “Why else do them?”

His brother was insufferable. He had every woman in the commune to choose from, most of which he had had, and still he wanted this Isabelle.

That reminded him.

“Go make your rounds,” Maurice ordered.

“What, now?”

“
Now
,” Maurice repeated. “One of the mothers is overdue and her blood pressure is high. Go see her.”

Geoffrey grimaced.

“Just get over there,” Maurice said.

“What about Isabelle?”

Dammit!

“If she’d shown up
by herself
,” Maurice said. “I’d have said fine. If she’d come here alone instead of with someone’s mother, I’d have said have it your way.” Geoffrey started to protest and Maurice held up a hand to stop him. “If she’d come here without a boyfriend who makes himself at home by breaking rules and snooping around, I’d say do it.” Maurice threw his hands in the air. “But none of that happened. Instead, there’s probably something wrong with her and there’s definitely more than meets the eye with the two of them.”

“A background check,” Geoffrey blurted out.
He was not going to let this alone!
“It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve done one.” Maurice went to the bar and Geoffrey followed him. “Do both of them if it makes you feel better–not that he’ll stay for long.” Geoffrey grabbed Maurice’s arm and yanked him around. “
Are you even listening to me?
”

Maurice jerked his arm free but it sailed across the bar, knocking over two cocktail glasses. One shattered against the backsplash and other toppled into the sink before the stem broke.

Geoffrey backed away and held up his hands.

Maurice glowered at him and pointed at the door.

“
Go
,” he said.

“Do your lab tests,” Geoffrey said, backing toward the door. “I’ll run a background check on them. Ten years.” He paused. “She’ll be back. You
know
she will. She submitted to the punishment.
She’ll be back!
”

Maurice put his hands on his hips and gritted his teeth. Nothing stopped Geoffrey when he was like this. There would be no end to the badgering.

“Ten years,” Geoffrey repeated.

Maurice drew in a long breath.

“Fine,” he finally said. “
Fine
.” Then he jabbed his finger at the door again. “Now,
go!
”

• • • • •

Geoffrey had disappeared and a single guard had followed them back to the main house. But now, as they passed it and headed toward the parking lot, Mac heard the man’s footsteps fall behind them. With his arm around Isabelle’s waist, he glanced back. The guard was gone. Maybe back inside the house.

“Is it okay to talk?” Isabelle whispered.

She hadn’t said a word since they’d left the infirmary.

“We’re alone,” Mac said, nodding and looked down at her. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” she said. “But otherwise fine.”

“Did you see anything in your reading?”

“Pain,” she said. “Mostly…well, mostly pain.”

He hugged her close.

“How about you?” she said.

“It’s not so much what I saw,” he said. “It’s what I didn’t see.” She glanced up at him. “First, there had to be security cameras but they’re hidden. I’d bet everyone here is being spied on.” Isabelle’s eyebrows shot up. “Second, there has to be another medical facility somewhere. There weren’t enough records there for a quarter of the population here.” He looked over toward the dormitories, the lights already out. “We saw the tip of the iceberg,” he said. “Where did that doctor come from? Where do they do blood tests? Where are the medical records?” He thought back to the computer room. “A dozen computers, some probably servers, some for backup, and yet no one there.” He looked down at Isabelle’s face as they slowly strolled to the parking lot. “Where are the people actually using them? They’re here somewhere. Probably under surveillance. Somewhere on the property, which is off the grid except for, what, internet satellite? And where are those dishes?”

“This whole village behind us,” Isabelle said. “It’s hardly real.”

“A front,” he agreed. “But the problem is, how do we find the real operation?”

“And Kayla,” Isabelle said.

“And Kayla,” he said, nodding.

The car was about a hundred feet away. Mac glanced up at the sky, clear and full of stars–much brighter than what you’d see in L.A.
 

“We need better eyes,” he said, still looking skyward, as their stroll gradually came to a stop. Isabelle followed his gaze upward. “Satellite imagery. That’s what we need.”

Unless the Green Earth Commune had gone to the trouble of camouflaging their buildings, a satellite would reveal everything on the property. Even people. Topanga Canyon might not be on a routinely flown satellite path but there had to be something in the last six months, maybe even more recently. Cyber Division might even have something on file. Mac took out his phone and texted Tim a brief message ending in ASAP.