Page 133 of Their Little Ghost

They look torn but know I’m right. They have no choice, if they want to return and escape with Eli.

“Fine,” Aiden reluctantly agrees. “But call us when you can.”

I nod.

A shiver slithers down my spine, like someone is dancing on my grave, and a crushing dread presses on my chest like a pile of bricks.

Something bad is about to happen.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-NINE

ELI

EARLIER THAT NIGHT…

I wakeup choking and gasping for air. A burst of adrenaline shocks me into an upright position. Acacia looms, bearing an empty injection from the shot.

“We’re going on a field trip, Twenty-Five,” he says menacingly. “Rise and shine.”

He’s never taken a patient out of Sunnycrest before, unless they’re in a body bag. Why start now? My heart sinks. What twisted experiment will I face next? I start counting back from one hundred in my head to regain control. Losing control is akin to signing a death warrant here, and it only worsens any pain. I learned that the hard way.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“That is not your concern, Twenty-Five,” he says. “Don’t ask questions.”

He clutches a small gadget that looks like a remote control. I gulp, knowing its function. Whenever he presses the red button in its center, a dose of a mystery drug is administered straight into my bloodstream by the new implant in my arm.

Experimental drug use should be reserved for the rats, but I’ve become his new subject since being held hostage. When I’m not sedated, he’s been using me to test a strange chemical concoction. I’m not entirely sure of the drug’s purpose, only that I am compelled to obey Acacia’s orders whenever he pushes the button. The side effects range from general confusion to recalling strange memories of events that I have no recollection of, making me lose grip on reality. At least being tortured is simple. Handling pain and healing physical wounds is easy compared to questioning who you are and being warped into a compliant soldier.

“Put these on,” he commands, handing me a white orderly outfit.

I stare at the clothes in confusion. “What?—”

“I said, no questions.” He presses the red button. A calmness whooshes through me. My limbs move of their own accord, quickly dressing, eager to follow his orders. He gives me a once-over and places a baseball cap on my head before nodding in satisfaction. “Good. Follow me.”

We’re the only two people in this part of the asylum. He’s been carrying out the bulk of his experiments on me alone. As I’ve drifted in and out of lucidity, I’ve watched him tinkering with chemicals and formulations, making rushed notes between mixing them together like a mad scientist.

“This will show her,” Acacia mutters, more to himself than to me.

My brain wants to question who he’s talking about, then halts. Whenever I have an original thought, a mental roadblock shuts it down in a flash. I’m Acacia’s puppet, and sheer willpower isn’t enough to fight it.

“You will do exactly as I say,” Acacia says. “Understood?”

“Yes.”

He leads me out of the asylum. I inhale the crisp fresh air, and the wind caresses my cheeks for the first time in years. Imagine how good running would feel. Numbness sweeps through me, making my limbs tingle, and extinguishes any thoughts of escape.

“This way.” Acacia heads to a white van that’s usually used for making deliveries or moving patients between facilities. He opens the door. “Get in.”

Once buckled in, he locks us inside and turns the key in the ignition. The last time I was in a vehicle, someone was bringing me to this hellhole under false pretenses.

I stare blankly out of the window. For a brief second, I think I see my younger self looking back. An innocent boy, full of hope, with his entire life stretching ahead of him. I put a hand to the cold glass, wishing I could turn back time. When I blink, the little boy is gone.

I return my gaze to the road. We’re jostled back and forth, trundling across the uneven road surface. Acacia swears under his breath in exasperation, one eye ahead and the other on his cell phone. His knuckles turn white, gripping the steering wheel with steely determination.

We reach the bottom of the mountain and join a stream of other cars. They are a colorful blur, streaking across my vision like shooting stars in dazzling rays of red, blue, and gray. It’s surreal, watching ordinary people go about their lives, stopping at the gas station, visiting grocery stores, going to the local diner. I knew there was a world outside Sunnycrest, but it may as well be another planet. It’s been so long since I’ve been a part of civilization that even the mundane is mesmerizing. Acacia clicks the red button again. Any wonder evaporates and is replaced by another fresh wave of nothingness.