that, what, they're gonna give him a fuckin' award?"
"Of course not. The videos are for his own personal
records. He can't show you or the videos to the medical
community. N o t h i n g he does here would ever be ap¬
proved or authorized by the boards. He's way off the
charts when it comes to ethics, but his results are sec¬
ond to none. That's all he cares about,"
"But what about you? He's a lunatic, Junie. You know
he is. H o w can you work for h i m ? "
"I don't have any choice, Mike."
"Oh bullshit! Everyone has a choice. You're here for
the money. I'll bet he's paying you an e n o r m o u s — "
"He's hardly paying me anything," Junie interrupted.
That stopped my rant in a hurry.
"He lets me live here free and I get fed, of course, but
my paycheck's only eight hundred dollars a month."
"Then why are you here?" I asked, truly confused.
" Surely a good nurse like you could earn triple that in a
real hospital."
Junie closed her eyes, taking several deep breaths
"Get out of here, Junie. You're not needed anymore."
Junie turned to go, tears flowing freely down her
cheeks now, but before she left she grabbed me and gave
me a big motherly hug. Drake got quite a kick out of this
and bent over laughing at her show of affection.
"Look, Jackson," Drake said to the guard, "Michael
has himself a girlfriend. Isn't that sweet?"
I might have told Drake to go stuff himself but I was
too busy listening to Junie. Under cover of Drake's
laughter, she put her mouth to my ear and quietly whis¬
pered two words.
She said, "Left pocket."
That was it, and Drake was dragging her off m e ,
pointing her in the direction of the door. She looked
back over her shoulder and I gave her the tiniest nod,
letting her know I understood. Then she was gone,
leaving me out in the cold with Drake and Jackson. I
knew what was coming before it was even said. I was
dumb but sure wasn't stupid. Game, set, and match. Dr.
Marshall was finally finished playing with m e .
"It's over, Mike," Drake said. "You're of no use to us
anymore. Dr. Marshall has done all he can with you,
and now that we have the photo and video evidence to
show how successful your transplants have been, the
time has come for us to part ways."
"You're letting me go?" I asked. I knew it wasn't hap¬
pening but what else could I say?
Drake j u s t smiled.
"No, Mike. I think you're smarter than that so I'll
j u s t give it to you straight. Jackson is going to take you
for a walk in the woods. We have a small cemetery in
there, an unofficial one, naturally, that we used before
the incinerator was installed. We could burn you, sure,
but I kinda like the idea of the worms and maggots get¬
ting a hold of you. Cremation seems too good for a
skinny little troublemaking prick like you."
I didn't say anything for a minute—partly because I
didn't want to give him the satisfaction, but mostly be¬
cause I was scared. I don't care what you see in the
movies, no one is brave enough to joke around and be
callous in the face of death. No one I knew, anyway.
Certainly not me. I did get one crack in, though, and it
made me feel better.
"Don't have the balls to do it yourself, h u h ? "
Drake laughed at that too. He was enjoying himself a
lot today. Bastard. "Whatever you say, Mike. I'll admit
I've enjoyed having you around. You've been a good
laugh and a refreshing change from most of the doc¬
tor's patients, but you've also been a royal pain in the
ass. W h e n it comes right down to it, my friend, you're
j u s t not worth my time. Face i t . . . you're a bum, Mike.
A good-for-nothing, expendable bum."
I wanted to tell him what I thought of him, tell him
how he was a psycho pervert steroid monkey or some¬
thing equally colorful, but no words came out. Silence.
My mouth was dry and my tongue felt swollen to three
times its normal size—the bitter bile-flavored taste of
grinning face.
Say something!
I hesitated too long and the m o m e n t passed.
"Get this piece of shit out of my sight, Jackson."
Drake said, t u r n i n g away, dismissing me as if I'd never
existed. That was how much my life was worth: noth¬
ing. N o t even a glance back.
before answering. "I have a son that lives in Jamestown
with my ex-husband. He's ... he's in a wheelchair and
Dr. Marshall promised—"
"You don't have to say it, Junie. Sorry I asked. After
everything you've seen, do you believe h i m ? "
Junie started to cry.
"No, not really, but I jiist kept hoping if I did what I
was told he'd help me. Part of me knows he's insane, but
the other part knows he can do what he says. He could
help my son if he wanted to. For his sake, it's so damn
hard to walk away."
"I can understand that. Honest. Before I came here I
was ready to kill myself to help my daughter. Despera
tion is a powerful thing, but it's also a tool that psychos
like Dr. Marshall use against good people. He went off
the deep end a hell of a long time ago, Junie, and some¬
body has to stop him or he's going to keep t o r t u r i n g
and killing innocent people. We have to do something.
Help me."
"I don't know, Mike. I . . . I don't want to talk about
this anymore. Just get ready, okay?"
I wasn't letting her off the hook that easy. No way!
"Don't want to talk about it? You kidding me? You
work for a goddamned killer and j u s t because he's rich
and smart and tells you lies you want to hear, it makes
things okay? Look around, Junie. You can't keep turn¬
ing a blind eye. Have you seen the poor bastards in the
blood bank up on the fourth floor, for Christ's sake?
Would you like your son up there? He's better off in his
goddamned chair!"
Junie never said a word. She couldn't I don't think,
not without bursting into hysterics, and for a tough old
bird like her, that was really saying something. It told
me I was getting through to her, perhaps finally finding
the ally I needed around her to make something hap¬
pen. W h a t , I had no idea, but something.
Then Drake poked his big shiny head around the
doorframe and started barking orders at both of us. I
didn't bother t u r n i n g to look at him, I was concentrat¬
ing on Junie, and I saw the lights go out in her eyes
when she heard Drake's cruel voice. The hope and cour¬
age inside her withered away, died right in front of my
eyes and I knew without her having to tell me that I was
on my own. She sympathized with m e , I'm sure of that,
but in many ways she was j u s t as much a victim here as
I was. H e r love and hope for her so
n, along with her
fear of Dr. Marshall and his walking muscle, Drake,
was too great for her to risk trying anything stupid. I
couldn't blame her. W h o was I to ask her to risk her life
and family for me? Nobody. Absolutely nobody. I kissed
her on her cold, wrinkled cheek, and without even ac¬
knowledging Drake I walked right p a s t h i m and out the
door.
He laughed at my pitiful show of defiance, but never
said anything. I took that as a minor victory and headed
for the video conference room with my head held high.
C H A P T E R T H I R T Y - O N E
I felt a little like a movie star. There were so many
video cameras r u n n i n g , halogen stands basking me in
bright light, digital microphones recording every sound,
and security staff as would-be photographers and videographers scurrying around following my every move
that I couldn't help but feel special. Stupid, I know. I
was well aware I was n o t h i n g more than a trained seal,
barking and balancing a rubber ball on my nose when¬
ever Dr. Marshall dangled a juicy fish under it. N o t
that I had any choice. Every time I complained or didn't
immediately do as instructed, Drake would smile and
casually open his jacket to show me the gun handle
protruding out of the waistband of his pants. That was
a fish I had no desire to taste, so I shut up and did as I
was told.
It was no big deal. Like Junie had said, all Dr. Mar¬
shall wanted was video and photographic proof that
my transplantation had been successful. I spent about
two hours walking, sitting, j u m p i n g , kneeling, jog¬
ging on the spot, and doing many of the same exer¬
cises I'd been working on with Junie for weeks. They
also had me catching and kicking balls of various sizes,
and doing things like writing my name or tying my
shoelaces to show I had decent dexterity in my hands
and feet.
It was tiring and tedious, but no big hardship. After a
break for lunch, I got a little upset—well, a lot upset, I
guess—when Dr. Marshall suggested I remove my clothes
and run through the same set of movements. He wanted
the videos to clearly showcase where he'd joined my
various body parts together. I told him to go fuck him¬
self, that he could stick it up his ass if he thought I
wanted him recording me naked. Five minutes, a nasty
b u m p on my head, and one short pep talk from Drake
later on how no one cared what J wanted, and I was
stripped down to n o t h i n g and parading around the
room like a good little seal again. It was humiliating and
I'd never felt so self-conscious in my life. I was officially
the freak I'd imagined myself as—the hideous Jigsaw
M a n on full display for one and all to laugh and point
fingers at. It was awful.
Eventually, a few minutes shy of three o'clock in the
afternoon, they gave me my clothes back and let me
return to my room. Junie brought me an early supper
but I wasn't up to eating anything. She tried to make
conversation, trying to make me feel better and snap
out of my funk, but I was in a sour mood and told her to
get out and leave me alone. I j u s t wanted to go to bed
and forget today had ever happened. I was asleep in
minutes.
C H A P T E R T H I R T Y - T W O
"You speaking to me today?" a voice whispered.
I bolted upright, surprised to see Junie standing at
the foot of my bed, holding an armful of clothes. My
heart was t r i p - h a m m e r i n g inside of my chest. I hadn't
heard her unlock the door or walk in, which was un¬
usual seeing as I was on constant high alert around
here. Must have been more tired than Fd thought,
dead to the world, the video shoot taking a lot more
out of me than my normal workouts down in the gym.
"Jesus, Junie. You damn near gave me a heart attack."
"You're not that lucky," she said, a half smile trying
to form on her face, but she couldn't hold it and I in¬
stantly knew something was upsetting her.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"Nothing. Well, I don't know. Something's not right.
Drake told me to get you up and dressed. They want to
do some m o r e videotaping today with you outside and
I'm not sure why."
"Who knows?" I said. "Doesn't sound like that big a
deal. Jesus, you don't think he'll make me strip naked
outside, do y o u ? "
"No way, at least I hope n o t It's too cold out for that."
Cold outside?
Wait a minute. Suddenly I realized that I had no idea
what month it was, never mind the date. H o w long had
I been here? It was September when I'd arrived, but how
long had passed by while I was zoned out from the vari¬
ous surgeries or drugged out of my mind recuperating?
"What's the date, Junie?" I asked, more desperation
in my voice than I'd intended.
W i t h a little trepidation, she answered, "October the
twentieth." Anticipating where I was going with that
line of thought, she said, "You've been here j u s t over
thirteen months."
Thirteen months! Has it been that long?
Well, considering I'd probably spent at least half of
those months either out cold or in la-la-land, I had no
trouble believing that. I walked over to the window and
took a good look outside—something I hadn't thought to
do in who knows how bloody long. I was expecting to see
dark storm clouds obscuring the sky and the ground be¬
low covered in a deep blanket of snow, but the sun was
shining down on a grassy field. Beyond the field I could
see a forest, and sure enough, I could see the leaves on the
trees had put on their fall colors and many had already
dropped off the branches.
"Doesn't look that bad," I said.
"Don't let the sun fool you," Junie said. "Windy to¬
day, cold enough to blow right through you and freeze
your bones solid."
The trees did seem to be getting whipped around
pretty good, especially the branches farthest up, which
were performing a strangely hypnotic lean-to-the-left
dance with the wind. Every few seconds, as if on cue,
they'd straighten up but then immediately be blown
back onto the dance floor.
"Make sure you wear a coat," Junie said.
"I don't have one."
"Sure you do. The coat you showed up in last year has
been sitting in a locker down in storage. I have it right
here. Couldn't find any of your other clothes, maybe
they got burned, but I found some other things that'll
help keep you warm. The boots might be a little big."
Junie dumped the clothes she'd been carrying at my
feet and the sight of my old blue bomber jacket put a
smile on my face. It was old and ragged, and probably
should have been burned with the rest of my stuff, but I
bent down and picked it up with almost reverent care.
My wife had bought me this coa
t for our last Christmas
and a tear slid out of my eye as I realized it was the only
piece of property I owned in the whole world. My legs
weren't mine. My heart wasn't even mine. But this rotten
old bomber jacket chock-full of as many memories as it
had holes was, and that made me feel good. Really good.
"Thanks, Junie," I said. "This coat m e a n s a lot to m e .
More than you'd think, looking at it."
"Good. Get dressed, then. Drake's going to come
searching for us again if we don't hurry."
I dressed quickly, excited to be going outside. Not
entirely sure why, but I'd spent so long locked up in this
hellhole that the thought of fresh air—regardless how
cold it might be—thrilled me and urged me on. I wasn't
allowed to j u s t run out the front doors wild and free, of
course. Junie and I were escorted by a big burly guard
named Jackson, who took me out a side entrance I'd
never seen before, marching me out to where Drake
and the cameras were waiting.
Camera, I should say.
Gone were the bright lights, the camera crews, and
the digital microphones. Gone were all the people from
yesterday's shoot, t o o , most notably absent being Dr.
Marshall. That wasn't a good sign. There was only
Drake, looking pissed off and cold standing with a cam¬
corder that looked like a child's toy in his huge paw.
The look on his face knocked the smile from mine and
I finally noticed how cold it was outside the climatecontrolled world o£ the castle.
It was freakin' freezing!
Jacket or no jacket, the wind stole my breath, cutting
right through me j u s t like Junie had warned. I'd lived
through several icy winters on the street—nights so
cold tears froze solid on the way down y o u r cheeks—so
you'd think Fd be used to bad weather, but damn, you
stayed inside for a year and you soon forgot how nasty
the elements could be.
"Get your ass over here, asshole," Drake screamed.
I didn't feel much like a movie star today.
I hunched my shoulders, trying to keep the wind off
my neck as best I could, and trudged out to where Drake
stood on the grass. Wasting no time, he started bark
ing at me to do some exercises. He didn't care what I
did as long as I kept moving and gave him something to
film. This was stupid and research-wise not much good
for anything, but I was glad to get moving, the physical
exertion feeling great and warming me up nicely. I was