F Paul Wilson - Novel 05 (53 page)

 
          
"A
beta-blocker. Of course ... to dull the memory-enhancing effects of
adrenaline."

 
          
"Quite.
I was way ahead of my time. I hypnotized you and instilled a false memory of
the fire. But no plan is foolproof. If one of you ever remembered what happened
that night, I could lose everything."

 
          
"So
you got us out of the country."

 
          
"Yes.
The move solved a number of problems. Eathan was a physician, an internist. I
was not. I could not take over
his
practice, nor could I risk one of his
friends catching on to my charade. Fortunately he was a bit of a loner like me.
He made a brief, distraught appearance at the funeral, then shunned what few
friends he had
—
he took it
so
hard.
Soon my own beard filled in but I knew I could not carry off the role indefinitely.
I had to leave
Millburn
. But the move also served
to remove you two from the vicinity of the trauma. If I'd kept you
in
the
Millburn
area, there would be an
ongoing risk of one of you coming across something that might trigger the true
memory.
England
seemed perfect. No language
barrier, and the dollar went a lot further over here then than it does now
—
I
got
this place for a song. And with the
two of you all to myself here: on the North Yorkshire coast, I could
continually reinforce the false memory, make you relive it
—
"

 
          
"All
those 'ventilating' sessions!"

 
          
"Yes.
I couldn't kill the true memory because the false memory shared a piece of it.
Every time I strengthened the false memory I was preserving the true memory as
well. So I had to keep the false memory so fresh and alive that there'd be no
way you could get to the truth."

 
          
"No
way?" Julie said, pointing to her memoryscape headgear.

 
          
Nathan's
grin broadened. "Isn't the irony delicious? I
made
Samantha
perfectly right-brained, the compleat artist. But
she
used her art to
unblock the memory of that night. Poor Sammi was catching glimpses of something
in her art. She got close to the truth ... too close ... and when she released
it she didn't die as I had hypnotically suggested
—
Samantha
never did do as she was told. But it did disrupt her entire memory system and
she fell into what looked like a coma."

 
          
"Bastard!"

 
          
"But
the irony continues. I made you the ultimate left-brained scientist, and what
do you do? You unblock the memory with a computer." He actually laughed
and clapped his hands. "Hoist by my own petard!"

 
          
"But
why did you risk letting me go into her memory at all?"

 
          
"Did
I have a choice? You were so damned insistent. And as Samantha's loving,
concerned uncle, how could I refuse you at least one look? I was utterly terrified
at first, but after I saw what her memoryscape looked like, I relaxed. I knew
the true memory was gone and you weren't going to find anything." Another
laugh. "I never guessed you'd travel into your own mind. Bravo,
Julia!"

 
          
"But
why continue the charade all these years? Why devote so much effort to playing
a loving uncle to your orphaned nieces?"

 
          
"The
experiment, remember? I wanted to provide a stable environment that supported
you in whatever direction you wished to take. I nurtured your differences. I
wanted to see how far each of you would go in your divergent interests. The farther
apart the better
—
the more it confirmed the
success of my protocol. Because this has been an ongoing experiment." He
took a deep breath, a resigned sigh. "At least until now."

 
          
Something
in his voice gave her a crawling feeling in her gut. She wanted to keep him
talking.

 
          
"So
that's why you've got all our accomplishments tagged and filed in that cabinet.
An ongoing record. For what?"

 
          
"For
eventual publication."

 
          
Julie
searched Nathan's face for some sign that he was joking. She found none.

 
          
"You
can't be serious."

 
          
"Posthumous
publication, of course."

 
          
"But
even then, this monstrous toying with children's minds will... the whole world
will
—
"

           
"Revile me? I certainly expect
so. But I also expect them to finally take a good look at my protocol. It
works. You and Samantha have proved that. And so along with the widespread
opprobrium will come a certain grudging respect for my genius. Yes, they'll
revile me, but at least I won't soon be forgotten." His eyes got a faraway
look. "I wonder what they'll say."

 
          
"You'll
never know."

 
          
"Oh,
don't be so sure. I've been thinking of writing up the details and leaving them
here with all the hard proof of the experiment's success, and then just...
disappearing. How wonderfully entertaining to sit back in the safety of a new
identity and watch the firestorm of controversy over my experiment. Yes... I
might find a way to die a second time." He reached into his pocket and
withdrew a syringe. "You and Samantha, unfortunately, will only get to die
once."

 
          
Julie
pushed back, trying to shrink into the fabric of the re-cliner.

 
          
"What's
that?"

 
          
"Succinylcholine.
I used it on your uncle
—
excuse me
—
father. I don't have to tell you what it does."

 
          
Julie
knew. The ultimate muscle relaxant. The right amount would leave her limp as a
dishrag. Too much would paralyze her muscles of respiration and she'd
suffocate. God, what was she going to do? Think! Think!

 
          
"And
then what? Another fire? You don't really believe you can get away with this
twice, do you?"

 
          
"Why
not? The first fire is ancient history. In another country. But I never would
have even toyed with the idea if you hadn't turned in a suspected arsonist to
Scotland Yard.
That
made the decision for me. Oh, I'll be heroically
fighting the blaze when the firemen arrive from Bay. I'm sure we can confine
it to this wing ... sparing my study."

 
          
Julie's
mouth was so dry she could barely speak. "They'll know it was you."

 
          
"Their
loving uncle? I hardly think so. Not after you betrayed Liam O'Donnell. How
awful that this known terrorist decided to make an example of you and your
sister, a fiery warning to anyone else who might be of a mind to talk to the
police." He glanced across Julie to where Sam lay inert under her covers.
"I wish there were another way, but since half of the experiment is
already as good as gone
—
"

 
          
The
syringe caught the pale light of the room. Nathan brought it close.

 
          
Julie
kicked with her right leg and caught him in the chest. "Bastard.'"

 
          
She'd
seen her chance and had aimed for his throat but didn't get her foot high
enough.

 
          
Nathan
grunted and fell back off the recliner. Julie slipped forward and aimed another
kick at his face but he got his arm up
—
so
quickly
—
and blocked it.

 
          
She
rolled off the opposite side of the recliner, bumping against Sam's bed as she
headed for the door.

 
          
But
Nathan was up and stretching across the recliner. Julie screamed as he caught
her arm and shoved her back onto Sam's bed. The back of her head knocked
against Sam's knees.

 
          
Julie
tried to roll away but Nathan flung himself on her and pinned her to the bed.
Her left arm was trapped between them but she flailed at him with her right. He
had the syringe in his right fist, holding it like a dagger, his thumb on the
plunger. His eyes were wild.

 
          
Julie
kept beating at him but he barely seemed to notice. She closed her eyes and
screamed in an agony of fear, anger, frustration, and horror as he raised the
needle over her shoulder.

 
          
This
was how it would end, all the secrets leading to her own death.

 
          
And
then Nathan stopped. He said, "Uh?"

 
          
Julie
opened her eyes and saw Nathan staring wide-eyed at his hand. At first she
thought he'd accidentally stuck himself and her heart lifted. But then she
noticed what had captured his stunned attention ...

 
          
A
hand was locked around his wrist.

 
          
She
thought her heart would explode with joy. It was impossible. It was wonderful.

 
          
Julie
screamed, "Sam!"

 
          
And
from behind Nathan she heard Sam's voice
—
hoarse,
dry, cracked, after long disuse
—
a sepulchral whisper. Ju-lie.

 
          
New 
strength  burst  through Julie's  limbs.  She shoved Nathan
back and managed to slip free of him. His left hand made an awkward snatch for
her but he still seemed distracted, stunned by the fingers wrapped around his
wrist.

 
          
Julie
stumbled to her feet and turned.

 
          
She
glanced at Sam's face and saw her blue eyes open and staring at Nathan. Nathan
looked up and was caught by her accusing stare. He froze for an instant
—
and in that instant, Julie acted.

 
          
She
grabbed the straight-back chair and lifted it over her head.
Do it!

 
          
Nathan
broke free of Sam's gaze and yanked his wrist from her grasp. He was pushing
himself up from the bed, scrambling now, disoriented, when Julie swung the
chair. She brought it down hard from somewhere near the ceiling and caught him
square across the back.

 
          
And
it felt good, oh God, it felt so damn good to let the son-of-a-bitch have it.

 
          
He
cried out in pain and sagged, then slid to his knees on the floor. Groaning, he
started to straighten from there. Julie didn't hesitate. She swung the chair
again
—

 
          
"You
sick"
—
she slammed the chair down
—
"bastard!"

 
          
And
this time, aiming for his head, she put everything into it, every bit of anger
at everything he had done to their lives, everything he had stolen from them,
the years she and Sam could have known each other, loved each other.

 
          
One
of the legs caught him square across the back of the skull.

 
          
And
that felt even better than the first shot.

 
          
This
time he didn't make a sound as he slumped to the floor and lay still.

 
          
And
nearly giddy with the act, Julie slammed the chair against his head a third
time, just to make sure he wasn't faking.

 
          
He
was so damn good at faking.