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  And more, lots more; words and thoughts and things that weren't thoughts but pieces of broken emotion stitched together, and through it all the wails grew louder, the voices combining now into a single scream and Freeman's head was going to explode and he rose away, triptrapped backward, but it was like climbing the slick walls of a dark well, and the water below was the voice, the voice grew louder and the scream sluiced through him like liquid lightning and Starlene shook him and his bones rattled against the floor and he opened his eyes and oh sweet merciful God he was in the little room again, the floor was solid against his cheek, his tears tasted so sweet, this was reality, he didn't ever want to leave his own head again and someone knocked at the door "Freeman? What's wrong?" Starlene asked, kneeling over him and holding his shoulders.

  He pushed his tongue against his teeth to make sure it was still there. "They're underneath."

  She bent low, her breath on his face. "Your pulse is going wild."

  "They said, 'Welcome to the party.'"

  "Who said it?"

  The knock came again. Beyond the door, Bondurant shouted, "What's going on in there? Miss Rogers, did you get clearance for this?"

  Freeman pushed himself up. He didn't want to be on the floor, not with them underneath it.

  As the echo of the last scream died away against the curves of his skull, a lone female voice stood out, calm and crystal clear, saying a single word: "Free."

  TWENTY

  "We need to go to the lake," Freeman said, and Vicky instantly understood this was a new code, a secret language between them.

  She couldn't read him quite as well as she had tricked him into believing the day before, but she needed to cut through some of his crap, skip that middle ground, and get to the heart of it all. This situation was bad and for the first time in her life, she didn't think she could survive it alone.

  "Just don't try to hold my hand or anything," she said as they turned down the worn path that led between the boulders.

  "I'll leave that for Deke."

  "Don't be a jerk. Did somebody pee in your corn flakes or something? You've been weird today, even for you."

  Freeman slowed when they were out of sight of the counselors, then pulled Vicky into a rhododendron thicket. "I saw them," he said.

  "Them?" Vicky felt the blood drain from her face.

  "The people underneath."

  "The same them."

  "You've seen them?"

  "Last night, I…" Would Freeman believe her? She didn't know if she could stand keeping it in anymore. He wasn't triptrapping through her head either; at least she couldn't feel that strange tickle, so he wouldn't know for sure that she was telling the truth.

  "Tell me," he said. "I won't laugh at you."

  Sure. She'd never been laughed at. Vomit Queen was a term of endearment, after all. Daddy had never, ever criticized her. Mommy had never locked herself in her room with a bag of Oreos. And Vicky liked what she saw in the mirror. Sure.

  Big deal if Freeman laughed. He was just another guy who thought just because he was finally growing his first pubic hair he was a real man, and it was common knowledge that all men were jerks. So even if Freeman were a jerk-in-training, she could bounce that laughter away like an overweight Wonder Woman blocking bullets with her golden bracelets.

  "I saw a ghost," she said before she had time to change her mind for the third time about trusting him.

  "Did you… you know, read it, or whatever?"

  "No. I saw one with my eyes. I sneaked out last night-"

  "Outside? You mean you know a way out of there?" Freeman pointed behind the boulders in the direction of Wendover.

  "Yeah, but that's not important right now. Anyway, Deke chased me into the basement-"

  "You were out with Deke?"

  Had jealousy flickered across his face? "If you keep interrupting, we'll never get anywhere. Deke chased me into the basement, then I hid in the dark. There's all kinds of weird equipment, electrical generators and tanks and stuff. I think it has something to do with Kracowski's experiments. There's a bunch of rooms down there, too, like hospital rooms or jail cells. Deke went down one of the halls, and I followed him."

  "Behold the power of love."

  "Stuff it. We saw somebody, and I thought it was the geeky night watchman down there with a girlie magazine and a candy bar. But the person was shiny, and elusive as heck. I couldn't get a good look, but Deke followed him or her into one of the rooms. He started whimpering-"

  "Deke, afraid of the dark? Wait until his goons find out."

  "He screamed, and I got scared and left. But now I know what I saw. A ghost."

  "It wasn't the man on the lake?"

  She could smell the water, though it was hidden by the rocks. She wondered if the old man was out there now, doing his miraculous two-step. "No, I think this was a woman. If dead people have sex."

  "Gross."

  "I meant, are dead people either male or female? It's not like they need to reproduce or anything."

  "I guess they stay whatever they were. The old man looks like a man, doesn't he? At least, as much of him as we can see."

  "I don't know what happened to Deke, but I haven't seen him today."

  "He wasn't in the Blue Room this morning."

  "Well, none of the counselors are freaked out about it. They'd be running around like headless chickens if somebody ran away."

  "They are headless chickens. How do you think they became shrinks?"

  Vicky laughed despite herself. Freeman was a weird one, all right. Maybe even weird enough to trust some more.

  Freeman grabbed her arm, squeezed her fat flesh. "Shhh."

  Someone was coming down the trail. No, two someones.

  Vicky pressed back into the thicket, but the branches weren't dense enough to completely hide them. "Do we run for it?" she whispered.

  "Why? We haven't done anything wrong."

  Dr. Kracowski passed by, with Dr. Swenson right behind him. Vicky put her hand over Freeman's mouth. His manic belligerence might drive him to yell some insult. She wanted to see where they were going, because they walked like conspirators, alert and quiet. If you wanted to spy on sneaky people, you had to be sneaky yourself.

  When the pair disappeared around the bend in the path, Vicky said, "Let's follow them."

  "You're really into following people, aren't you?"

  "So I'm a stalker. Don't you have any curiosity?"

  "Enough to kill the cat, but I suspect he died from rat poison. Which is why you shouldn't snoop around too much."

  "Hah. This from the guy who brags about triptrapping through other people's heads. You don't mind your own business, so why should I?"

  "Okay, okay. Let's go."

  They pushed their way out of the thicket, Vicky's arms scratched by the branches. They climbed over the boulders and slipped through a dark notch in the granite. The two doctors had stopped at the water's edge, in a stand of young maples. It was the only part of the lake shore not visible from Wendover.

  Vicky and Freeman hid in the shadows of the boulders and waited. The doctors talked quietly for a moment. Vicky's face itched, and she fought an urge to sneeze. Freeman squeezed her hand. How could he stand to touch such grotesque flab?

  A man came down the path from the opposite direction. He was dressed in cotton slacks and a white shirt with the top two buttons undone. He was broad chested, tan, short, and he wore sunglasses. The man was obviously trying too hard to disguise himself as a mountain tourist.

  "Doctors," the man said in greeting.

  "Hello, McDonald," Kracowski said making no move to shake the man's hand. Swenson stood silent beside him.

  "What happened last night? We captured the boy prowling around in the basement."

  Freeman squeezed Vicky's hand more tightly. The visitor, apparently satisfied that no one was watching, removed his sunglasses. His eyes were cold as marbles.

  "That was an unfortunate mishap," Kracowski said. "The security man has been
properly scolded. Did the boy see anything?"

  "Enough. We've got him in brainwashing right now."

  "Please," said Kracowski. "I don't like that word."

  "Right, Doc. What do you call it? 'Synaptic realignment'? Your technique may be new, but ours has a pretty decent track record."

  "Not so decent that your bosses aren't interested in my work."

  "We all work for the same boss. Don't forget who funded your equipment. You think liquid nitrogen and advanced superconductors are cheap? Not to mention the extra security measures we're going to have to take now?"

  "You rented me, you didn't buy me." Kracowski knelt by the lake and stared across the water. "What do we do now?"

  "Nothing," McDonald said. "You continue just as before. We're bringing in some of our own people. Bondurant can't handle this."

  Kracowski said "You promised no meddling."

  "We have a large investment to protect and we expect results."

  "I'll share everything when the time comes. This is an incredible breakthrough. I'm not sure your people understand the implications of my work."

  "Turning out happy campers." The man laughed Kracowski's jaw clenched. "This isn't the CIA and the KGB racing to see who can bend the most spoons with telepathy. This is bigger than governments. You work for the Trust, and don't you ever forget it."

  "There might be more," Kracowski said. "There could be side effects that I didn't consider."

  Swenson finally spoke. "Don't worry about the children. None of them have shown any long-term damage. Nothing that can be traced back to the treatments, anyway."

  "I'm not talking about that." Kracowski stared off across me lake. "I'm talking about the old man in the gown."

  Vicky swallowed a gasp, her heart pounded against her ribs. Freeman's face grew pale and he bit bis lip. So Kracowski knew about the ghost. Their minds hadn't been playing tricks on them.

  "You don't believe those stories, do you?" Swenson said. "Bondurant's a drunken fool."

  "Starlene Rogers isn't. And others have talked as well."

  "You'd better keep your staff in line, or we'll have to take over completely," McDonald said. "You're not the only person who's worked on ESP techniques."

  "Don't threaten me," Kracowski replied.

  "Don't worry," the man said. "Wouldn't want anybody messing in your little sandbox, would we? Just make sure the Mills boy doesn't notice his puppet strings."

  Kracowski reddened and stepped toward the man. Vicky thought Kracowski was going to throw a punch, but Swenson tugged his shoulder and pulled him away.

  "Forget it, Richard," she said.

  "Fucking spook," Kracowski muttered.

  "You shouldn't hate me," the man said. "I'm the best thing that ever happened to you. You have a laboratory with the most advanced equipment that secret slush funds can buy and you've got an endless supply of guinea pigs. You've died and gone to mad scientist heaven."

  "Actually, whenever you show up, this place feels a lot more like its opposite."

  McDonald laughed. "I never thought Dr. Richard Kracowski would come off as 'holier than thou.' Save your bullshit for the kids. I've got a job to do, and it's getting done, one way or another."

  The man's chilling smile dropped and his eyebrows arched, and suddenly he looked as if he could chew bricks. 'I know you're full of yourself, but you're just a little piece of a big picture. Daddy can cut off the sugar just like mat."

  The man snapped his fingers for emphasis, and this time Vicky was sure that Kracowski would jump him. But he only turned away and looked across the lake again. McDonald glanced around one last time, and Vicky pulled Freeman deeper into the bushes. The man exchanged glances with Swenson, men went down the path and disappeared, headed toward me back fence.

  Swenson went to Kracowski and put her arms around him. "They're just a means to an end," Swenson said. "We know it's about the search for truth. We're using them more than they're using us."

  "They don't understand the implications," Kracowski said. "This is bigger than governments and politics and little boys with big toys. It's about the wall between life and death; between this world and me world beyond. It's about breaking down the ultimate barriers of the mind."

  "But we need more evidence."

  "I don't want the Trust to know too much. I've been careful to keep different parts of the research in different places. It would take McDonald's best hackers years to track down everything."

  "You don't trust anyone, do you, Richard?" She hugged him more tightly.

  "Trust. The one quality that Synaptic Synergy Therapy can't impart."

  "What do we do now?"

  "More research. More work. More patients."

  "Do you really mink you're close to the answer?"

  Kracowski nodded at the surface of the lake. "Ask him."

  He headed back toward Wendover. After a moment, Swenson followed.

  When they were gone, Vicky relaxed her stomach muscles. "What's going on?" she whispered.

  Freeman shook his head. "Clint in Absolute Power. Double cover-ups."

  Behind them, a twig snapped.

  TWENTY-ONE

  "You guys shouldn't be down here," Starlene said.

  "It's okay, we've got our clothes on," Vicky said. Freeman swiped the air in front of Vicky as if feigning a slap.

  Starlene wanted to ask them about Kracowski and Swenson, whom she'd passed on the trail, but she didn't think spying and gossiping, and probably mind reading, were proper Christian behaviors. Instead, she said, "You guys come looking for the old man?"

  "You mean the one you don't believe in?" Freeman said.

  "I didn't say that. And I didn't say your experience yesterday wasn't real."

  "You just think I thought it happened, like a dream or something."

  "We all make our own realities."

  "Especially the people in the basement."

  Starlene looked to Vicky for help. The girl lowered her eyes. She was allied with Freeman.

  "There's no one in the basement, Freeman," Starlene said.

  Vicky grew animated, her knotty elbows and hands moving as she spoke. "How do you know? You ever been down there?"

  Starlene shook her head. "No, but the door's kept locked. Same with the stairwell entrances."

  "You wouldn't believe all the stuff down there. Lots of high-tech equipment, tanks and tubes and generators and wiring. And some creepy old cells."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Come on, I'll show you." She scrambled out of the rhododendron and led them up the trail. "I was there last night."

  By the time they reached the open lawn, the bell sounded and the children gathered to go inside. Starlene waved to Randy. He'd be rotating off duty tonight. If Starlene wasn't so hardheaded, she would be off, too, and maybe they could have caught a movie together. Maybe Randy would kiss her without trying to ram his tongue all the way down her throat. Maybe he'd even talk with her about what was going on at Wendover.

  But tonight, she needed to be here. Not only for the kids, but for herself as well. The old man wasn't just a figment of her imagination, others had seen him. Could mis place be the site of a miracle? Did visions come to those in the modern day? Did God still send messages to the people He loved?

  Starlene saw Bondurant watching them from his office window as they approached the building. He didn't wave.

  "Time to go inside," Starlene said to Freeman and Vicky.

  "First things first" Vicky ducked under the stair landing and went down the steps leading to the basement. Starlene watched from the top of the steps as Vicky pulled and pushed on the door, then banged her shoulder into it.

  "Dang," Vicky said. "I swear it was open last night." She pointed to a large, gleaming lock and hasp. "That's new."

  "Come on up," Starlene said.

  "You don't believe her," Freeman said.

  "Are you reading my mind or is that just your opinion?"

  "Just because you're a shrink doesn't me
an you know everything." Freeman brushed past her and went down to Vicky. They talked for a moment in hushed voices. Then they ascended the stairs together.

  "I'm sorry," Vicky said. "I made the whole thing up."

  "Yeah," Freeman said. "We didn't see an old man walking on water and I didn't get inside the heads of people who live in the basement. But it's okay for us to be wrong. After all, we're troubled, right? We're society's mistakes."

  The second bell sounded, meaning they were late for lunch. "Look," Starlene said. "You guys don't have to hate me. It's hard for me to stay clinical and detached but that's what I'm supposed to do."

  'Trust," Freeman said, as if spitting. "Isn't that one of your special little words?"

  Freeman and Vicky went up the landing and entered the building. Starlene started after them, then hesitated. She hurried down the stairs to the basement. The lock did look new, not a scratch or speck of rust on it. Sawdust, steel shavings, and crumbled masonry lay in small piles on the ground. The hardware had been recently installed.

  "Is that to keep us out, or to keep them in?" Bondurant smiled down at her from the top of the stairs. Without waiting for an answer, he said, "You've seen them, haven't you?"

  "Them?"

  "The ones who live in the walls." Bondurant took a staggering step down. His face was bright red, his eyes wild. He slapped the stone foundation of the building. "The ones that God wouldn't let into heaven."

  "I–I'd better get going. I have a group session after lunch."

  Bondurant fumbled in his pocket and came two steps nearer. He brought out a key. "Don't you want to look?"

  He lost his footing, and Starlene thought for a moment he was going to tumble down the steps. But he grabbed the handrail and regained what he could of his balance. The smell of whiskey filled the cramped alcove beneath the landing. Wendover's director was as drunk as a lord.

  "Mr. Bondurant, you look like you're under the weather. I think you ought to go lie down."

  "I'm afraid I'll go to sleep if I do that." He was nearly all the way down the stairs now, and Starlene considered bolting past him. She'd never quite trusted him, even though he knew some Bible verses and professed faith in Jesus. But this man could crush her career with one negative reference. Though he looked out-of-his-mind insane- purple welts under his eyes, hair oily and mussed hands trembling-he still carried a lot of influence with the state's behavioral health care system.