When the Wind Blows - James Patterson [99]
But nothing came to her. Her mind drew a big, fat blank. Finally, she decided to pray. “Dear God in heaven, dear Father, please help me and my friends. We pray to you every single day, but nothing good ever seems to happen. I’m not complaining, but now is a good time to start. Okay?”
She knew about God and she liked the idea of Him pretty much. She had gone to church every Sunday morning for years—on the TV. Now she needed proof that there really was a God. Max needed her prayers answered just this once, and she felt she deserved it. All the children from the School deserved it. They always had.
And now she remembered something Uncle Thomas had said at the School. Like most things, he repeated it a lot, “drummed it into her head.” He loved his own ideas and sayings, the big jerk. He’d said: the Lord helps them who help themselves.
Chapter 106
WE WERE TAKEN like pathetic, probably doomed prisoners to a place inside the large, sprawling mountainside house. I knew that the house had been built on what had originally been a mine site. It wasn’t uncommon on Sugarloaf. Local kids had been playing in the shafts for years. The guards separated Kit and me from the four winged children. Wendy and Peter started to sob, but it didn’t matter to the Security men, who seemed heartless and uncaring.
“It’s okay, babies,” I told them.
“No, it isn’t. We know it isn’t,” they wailed in unison.
They were probably right. Unfortunately, their instincts about danger, and maybe about some humans, were so true, so accurate.
Two levels of heavy concrete and metal basement had been constructed when the house was built. I had never been down here, and had no idea the basements existed. It was more deception, wasn’t it. Nothing was as it seemed when it came to Gillian.
I took everything in; I was still being a witness. A bright red box on the wall was marked: Safety Blanket. Lab coats and safety goggles were hung on hooks everywhere. A stainless steel door was marked: Safety Showers. I doubted that the massive Defense Department shelters in New Mexico were anywhere near as complex or state-of-the-art. A great deal of money had been spent here.
We passed a lab and I could see inside. The new aesthetic of interior design. Burnished surfaces, not dull white walls. Brilliant lighting, not dingy fluorescents. A couple of scientists were working under a Cell Culture hood. Cells could be kept alive for long periods under the hood.
I felt a sharp jab in the back. A guard was moving us along, moving me along.
Kit and I were taken to quarters near what one of our captors called the North Woods Labs. Oz, Icarus, and the twins were taken elsewhere. No one would tell us where.
“Are you going to put us to sleep?” I asked a black-bearded guard who stood at the door to our room. I was being bitterly sarcastic.
“I’m sure that’s what the decision will be,” he said. He looked around at the others who had guns on Kit and me. “If it was up to me, I’d fuck your brains out first. You don’t have a lot up top, but your ass is cute.”
He laughed. So did the other brutish guards. Then the door banged shut on Kit and me.
“What the hell happened to Stricker?” Kit said and slammed his hand against the wall. “That was definitely Dr. Peyser outside.”
“It was definitely Carl Puris, too. I went to his funeral in Boulder, Kit. God, my head hurts.”
“Peyser had a girlfriend named Susan Parkhill. She’s another top biologist. I suspect Susan Parkhill is none other than your friend Gillian.”
I reached out and took Kit’s hand. He had been alone in this awful mess for such a long time. He’d been working against incredible odds and strong forces. Only now did I understand what he’d been through.
There was a sharp rap on the door. It burst open almost immediately. One of the guards was there in the hallway.
“Gillian wants to see you,” he said. “Just you, Dr. O’Neill.”
Chapter 107
I WAS GETTING MUCH BETTER at cynically recognizing things for what they were, at seeing the dark side of life out here in Colorado, a place I had once considered Paradise