Page 59 of Unnatural (Men and Monsters #2)

“Do you have a minute to chat?” Mark asked as he came into the kitchen.

Autumn placed her almost-empty coffee cup down, looking up at the agent who, in only a few short days, had begun to become a trusted friend. His expression was troubled, and a tremble of trepidation made the hair on her neck rise. “Of course. Is everything okay?”

“I’d like to tell you and Sam about what I’ve found regarding—ah, here he comes now,” Mark said, nodding out the window behind Autumn.

She turned to see Sam walking across the yard from the path along the water, a hood pulled up over his head, shoulders hunched.

He came through the door a moment later, taking down his hood.

Their eyes lingered, memories of the night before flowing between them, adding an invisible shimmer to the air.

Her heart quickened, and she had the inane temptation to giggle, despite her worry about why Mark was calling a meeting with them.

“Good morning,” she said instead. “Mark wants to tell us something.”

Sam looked at Mark. “Okay.”

“Let’s go into the living room,” he said, leading the way.

When they got there, Jak was already seated near the fireplace. Harper had told Autumn she was taking Eddie into town for some groceries, and Autumn had assumed Jak was going with them too, so the sight of him surprised and concerned her.

It was clear that Mark had wanted him there for a purpose.

The knowledge made her concern climb higher.

She and Sam sat down on the couch, and Mark took the other seat flanking the fireplace.

“I got the results back from the lab my task force works with that I overnighted your blood samples to,” he said, diving right in. “Neither of you were ever exposed to ADHM.”

It felt as if a bomb detonated between Autumn’s ribs.

She looked over at Sam, who was staring at Mark, his expression stunned.

“How is that… I mean, I suspected it about myself, but Sam…” She was at a loss for words.

She reached out, taking Sam’s hand in hers.

It was cold from his walk, and it sat limply in her own.

“Sam was never exposed either? That must be a mistake because…” Her gaze flew over him.

His knees, his ribs, his shoulders, temples. Oh God. Then why ?

She looked back at Mark. Both his gaze and Jak’s were on Sam, both men watching him closely as though he might blow at any moment. Her fingers tightened on his.

“No,” Mark confirmed. “It’s not a mistake. Sam, are there any questions I might answer that will make this easier for you?”

“Say anything you want, Sam,” Jak encouraged. “We’re all here. To share this. Yell if you want to, flip a table. We’ll clean it up.”

Sam’s body had grown still. He sat silent and morose now, but his eyes…

his eyes were shimmering with what looked like rage and confusion.

Grief. “I was sick with something else then,” he said, still obviously trying to find a better explanation than the one he’d just been given, but Autumn heard the uncertainty in his voice.

“That’s why I had the surgeries. The surgeries that made me…

” His words cut off with a small, choked noise. Oh, Sam. Sam.

“No, Sam. You weren’t sick,” Mark said very gently. “You were never sick.”

“Why did they think I was?”

“They couldn’t have,” Mark said, and Autumn appreciated the directness. “They would have known you were not. We can do more testing to show—”

“No, never again,” Sam growled. “No more tests. No more.” His voice was a strangled yell, and a sob moved up Autumn’s throat. What did they do to you? Oh, Sam.

“Okay, Sam. No more,” Mark said, the same gentleness in his voice, the tone a father would use.

She didn’t blame Sam for his grief, his obvious pain and confusion.

She herself had felt similarly when she’d read the words in her folder: suspected ADHM.

But Autumn had also been cut free of her incorrect diagnosis—if that was all it was, a big, giant if —many, many years before.

Sam’s had gone on and on and to a much more invasive extent.

“If neither of us were ever sick,” Autumn said, “then why ?”

Mark sat back. “I located the nurse you were looking for. Salma Ibrahim.”

Autumn drew in a breath. “Salma?” Just the woman’s name on her lips was a soul balm at just the moment she needed one. “Where? How?”

“I have a few more resources than you,” he said, offering a small smile. “She had her license taken from her. She’s working as an in-home day care provider. She’s well, and she misses you. I’ll give you her information.”

“Yes, please.”

“Salma had seen evidence that caused her to question things at Mercy. They fired her before she could copy that evidence or do anything with it. Then they destroyed her reputation and her credibility until she had no choice but to give up and attempt to rebuild her life.”

“Oh my God,” Autumn said.

Oh, Salma. She’d helped her when no one else had. To know the woman had suffered for it made Autumn ache. Without you, Salma, I never would have known I was well. She shuddered inside to think of it. To imagine what would have happened to her had she not gone off her medication.

Sam hadn’t said a word, but she sensed his tumultuous emotions as they rose inside him, his hand growing ever warmer by the moment as, inside perhaps, his blood boiled. “She suspected the truth, that I never had ADHM,” she guessed.

“Yes. And more so that you and several of the others were being used as a control group for the cocktail of medications they had you on, specifically the Mesmivir.”

She blew out a breath. To have it confirmed… God, it hurt. And it fanned a flame of anger, one that was just beginning to flicker. They’d stolen years from her. Years. And double that of Sam’s.

“Your blood tests confirmed Salma’s suspicions,” Mark said. “I’m attempting to pull files that will provide more information, but a lot is sealed. And I assume much has been destroyed.”

“ How ?” she asked.

“That’s always the biggest question,” Jak said.

“And I don’t know that I’ve come to a reason that brings me any peace.

” He looked at Sam. “But maybe that’s a good thing, because there should never be peace when it comes to hurting children.

So here’s my best guess: greed, weakness, fear, pure evil in some cases, though I think that’s rarer.

” He paused for a moment. “I’ve spent a lot of time considering their reasons, but I think it’s time better spent working to rescue those still suffering.

You’re not nearly there yet, Sam, but you will be.

If I can offer you any hope right now, it’s that you will be. ”

Autumn hoped to God Jak’s words were penetrating, though from the look on Sam’s face, too much pain was radiating inside him for any words to make much difference.

Autumn’s anger and grief were a flickering flame, but Sam’s were a raging inferno, and rightly so.

They’d experimented on both of them. But what they’d done to Sam had destroyed his belief that he was capable of being a human being.

Of deserving love. Her eyes moved over his visible scars, and she pictured the many others.

So many others. But it was the deeper scarring that she now feared the most. The ones that had scraped away at his soul.

Jak had mentioned pure evil was rare, but if anything should be defined as such, it was this.

“If some of us were the control group, then others really were sick,” she said as she voiced her thoughts. “But were they made sicker by the medication?” The very idea was making her nauseous, her head pounding.

“I don’t have the answer to that,” Mark said. “Not yet.”

Not yet. Autumn reached up and massaged her temples, alleviating the ache in her head if not in her heart. She had tried to dig up answers; Salma had attempted to do so too and been destroyed. But if she had any hope, it was that Agent Mark Gallagher had the weight of the government behind him.

Or was the government involved in what had been done to them?

Mark had said he worked for a classified task force under the cover of one more public.

So in essence, they worked in secret. How far up did this go?

She swallowed, the world swaying. It was too much to consider, much less ask about.

She gripped Sam’s hand tighter, his fingers finally curling around hers.

They’d both been betrayed. Deeply. “They put us in the woods,” she said.

“To be hunted.” She hadn’t mentioned it yet because she saw the misery in Sam’s expression each time they spoke of it.

But Mark needed to know the depth and breadth of the evil so he could hold the right people responsible.

“They told us our memories were dreams.” Sam looked away, and she squeezed his hand more tightly.

I won’t let you go. This is not your shame to carry.

Jak’s brows raised, and Mark blinked. “Salma mentioned the dreams that seemed to coincide with the full moon,” he murmured.

“It’s how we met,” Autumn said. “The part of the hospital where Sam was raised was off-limits to us.” She told them about the dreams that weren’t dreams, about Sam protecting her, about the dirt under her fingernail, her suspicions, Salma’s instruction, the silver hair she’d put under her tongue, the only hiding spot she could think of, guessing they might clean her body before she woke.

“They,” Mark said. “Who do you think they were?”

“The staff, I imagine. Or at least a few members of the staff. It couldn’t have happened without their cooperation, even though it only took place once a month. For whatever reason, they chose the full moon. Maybe it was just a marker. I don’t know.”

Mark blew out a long breath. She had the feeling that little shocked this man, but what she’d just told him had.

Mark and Jak shot each other looks full of the same shattered surprise.

For reasons she couldn’t quite explain right then, it made her feel better that they both still felt horror at what was horrible.

They weren’t hardened, though if anyone had a right to be, it was men who rescued brainwashed and tormented human beings.

Did the other nurses know too? Did they even suspect? Did even one other fight like Salma, or did they all look away?

“Sam,” Jak said. “What were you told was the purpose of those nights?”

“Training. Training to be killers.” He looked absolutely distraught, and a faraway look came into his expression, as if the dark forest he spoke of was appearing within his mind.

“Some didn’t run,” Sam said, still looking away, his eyes focused on the trees outside the window.

“Some hid or lay still.” He paused, and they all waited.

The weight of their collective despair in the room was palpable.

“We could do whatever we wanted to them. There weren’t any rules, except to make it quick.

Making them scream more than once was discouraged. ”

She held back the tears that were threatening to fall. I will not cry, not now. It would kill Sam.

He went on, his tone wooden, expression distant as he continued to stare past her.

“They were weak and sick. If we didn’t practice…

if we didn’t hunt them, their dying would be prolonged.

Their pain would be prolonged. We were only questioned if we usurped another hunter’s choice or got in his way. That was the only rule.”

Jak stood and then grabbed a wooden chair from the writing desk near the door and set it next to Sam.

He put his hand on his shoulder and gripped.

“I understand your pain and your guilt, Sam. I was set up too. To hurt. To kill. It’s not your fault,” he said.

“And more than that, you disobeyed their orders, Sam. She’s here,” he said, nodding at Autumn. “She’s here because you protected her.”

Sam breathed out, dropping his head and bringing his hands to his face. In so doing, Jak’s hand was jolted away, and Autumn’s hand was dropped. “Did you watch violent films? Play bloody video games, over and over and over? Were you punished if you refused? Rewarded if you did not?”

Jak shot Mark a look, and Mark’s face fell. “No,” Jak said. “I overcame other things but not that, Sam.”

Sam scrubbed his hands down his face, standing with a low growl and stalking out of the room.

With a small cry of distress, Autumn stood to follow him, but Jak stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. “He needs time,” he said.

She sank back down onto the couch. “What did he mean about films and games?” she asked weakly.

“He means they used mind control on him,” Mark murmured, giving his head a shake, his eyes filled with worry. “They attempted to rewire his brain.”

Brainwashing. They’d tried to make him violent. But they’d failed. Sam was gentle. If anyone could attest to that, she could. “How much time should I give him?” she asked Jak.

Jak appeared deeply troubled. He looked in the direction Sam had gone for a long moment, then at Mark and finally back to Autumn.

“Most likely quite a bit. His entire life has just been pulled out from under him.” He paused.

“Those walks he keeps going on are good for him. He notices everything, and spending time in nature is important because it will help him remember who he is, his role on this earth. It might sound silly, but I assure you it’s not.

He considers himself half monster, half machine.

His body ceased to be his long, long ago.

” A shadow passed over Jak’s handsome features before he continued.

“But I believe he held on to enough of his mind that he can still find his way back. With your help, and when he’s ready.

It might be a bumpy road, but he knows your voice, Autumn.

He’s depended on it for a long, long time.

It’s what he will use to find his way home. ”