Ashley began backing away from them. “What’s happening? What’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?”
“Ashley”-her father attempted a small smile-“you realize your mother and I love you very much, don’t you?”
“Yes,” her mother said, nodding vigorously, “we love you deeply. And we, we, we would never want anything to happen to you.”
Ashley kept backing away from them. She didn’t know where she was going, exactly, only that she wanted-needed-to get away from her parents.
“We can make this work,” her father said. “I promise you, we can make this work.”
His words didn’t make sense to her. She wasn’t sure why, until an instant passed and she realized he wasn’t even speaking to her. He was facing her, yes, but his gaze was focused on something behind her.
A second later she went to take another step back but couldn’t go any farther. Something solid stopped her. She turned around to find she had walked into a man. Another man stood beside him. She thought she recognized one of them but couldn’t be sure. Both had guns in their hands.
One of the men released a weary sigh. “Guess it’s time for Plan B.”
fifty-three
We stand against the railing and stare out over the water. The ferry moves at a moderate pace. Several people are outside their vehicles, while a few others wait inside by themselves or with friends or family. Where Eli and I stand, nobody is nearby, which is just as well as our conversation probably isn’t suited for innocent ears.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” Eli says.
Watching the island as we approach it, I nod distantly. “Of course you do.”
“Believe it or not, I’ve been truthful about everything else so far. Yes, granted I may have not been so forthcoming with some of the truth, but eventually I told you everything.”
“I guess that makes everything okay, then.”
He ignores my sarcasm. “The work Marta and I and the others were initially doing, to try to cure autism, it all narrowed down to trying to perfect cells. It certainly wasn’t an easy task, and it took years of research, not to mention the decades of research that had been done before us, and quite honestly, I doubt they’ve succeeded yet. If there is a cure for autism, don’t expect anyone to know about it.”
“Eli?”
“Yeah.”
“How about sticking to the point.”
“Right. So anyway, when Marta and I began investigating what Matheson was up to, we came across several files that detailed projects which were … extraordinary, to say the least. These researchers were continuing with the manipulation of cells, only they were trying to change them at will.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning they tried to isolate different cells during the embryonic period. Cells that would determine a person’s height, weight, even their hair color. What Matheson ultimately wanted to do was isolate the neural stem cell that would eventually form an individual’s fear. Not just the amygdala, which some believe is the fear center of the brain, but every cell associated with the emotion of fear. Matheson believed that while everyone has the fight-or-flight instinct, it’s possible to tweak it so that flight is never an option.”
“So let me get this straight. You’re saying that essentially these people would experience no fear?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Matheson’s ultimate task-what he had been hired to do by this new backer-was to create an army. And what good are soldiers if they experience fear?”
“Everyone experiences fear.”
“Do you?”
He’s watching me from the corner of his eye, and it gives me pause.
I turn to him, leaning against the railing. “Yes, of course I experience fear. Just the other day I was afraid I was going lose my job. I was afraid what would happen to David unless we saved him.”
“But those are base fears. Being afraid of losing your job is something everyone has, because they’re expected to. The same with fear for the safety of loved ones. I’m talking about true, animalistic fear. Tell me, when the barrel of David’s gun was pointed at your face, were you afraid?”
I say nothing. I think about what Duncan said to me right before he died-how I had a death wish. Maybe it wasn’t a death wish, after all. Maybe it was just that death didn’t scare me.
“Remember in the parking garage, how you wanted to head straight back to the hospital? You’ve never been afraid a day in your life. Just like your sister.”
This catches me off guard.
“Who?”
“Melissa. I believe she was much like you. The rest of you kids not so much. But Melissa had no fear. That’s what made her a great lawyer. She could face the most hardened criminals and not even blink. Her family, though, was her only weakness. I believe she loved and cared for her husband and children very much. If she had any fear, it was the base fear that something might someday happen to them.”
The ferry bounces up and down as we head closer and closer to Martha’s Vineyard. Judging from the distance and our speed, we’ll be there in less than ten minutes.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I want there to be no more secrets between us. Plus, I thought you should know so that way you can be careful.”
“You don’t think I’m careful?”
He gives me a dry look. “You’re entire life has been riddled with careless mistakes.”
“Is this supposed to be a pep talk?”
“I knew it when you were a kid. When your mother had you children at the house in Georgia. You would climb the trees in the backyard as high as you could. You always tried going higher.”
“I fell from one of those trees. Broke my leg.”
“That’s right. By then I was out of your life, but I always checked in with Marta. She told me what happened. I was curious to hear what you would do once your leg healed. And do you remember what you did?”
I nod, remembering it perfectly, but say nothing.
“You climbed that tree again. You didn’t even hesitate. Don’t you understand what fear is? A child touches a hot stove, that child knows the stove is hot and not to touch it again. He becomes afraid of the stove. That’s where we learn fear, from experience. But you, John, you just climbed that tree again. You experienced pain and knew what could happen, but you didn’t care. You learned from the mistake, and you pushed on.”
The island is very close now. Everyone else has begun drifting toward their cars.
“You didn’t answer my question,” I say. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I don’t want to see you die. You may not be afraid of these people or what we’re about to do, but you should be.”
“But don’t you think it’s a good thing, if it’s true? If fear is such a weakness, then I’m better off not having it.”
“That’s the major flaw in Matheson’s work. An army without fear would soon be a dead army. It’s only until they understand fear is vital to their existence will they survive.”
Eli pulls something from his jacket pocket, places it in my hand.
“And in the end, John, we should all want to survive.”
He doesn’t wait for a reply and slides past me toward the Buick. I watch him go, holding the lighter he just gave me. It’s much like the one he first gave me at that truck stop and which I later gave to Ashley, only this one isn’t nearly as heavy. I weigh it in my hand for a couple more seconds, then toss it over the side where it bounces with the waves like a tiny ship about to capsize.
• • •
We drive by the house once without stopping, just to check it out. It’s an impressive two-story overlooking the water. The thing probably costs a couple million dollars. In the driveway are two cars. One is a silver Mercedes. The other is a black SUV.
Eli says, “One is not like the other.”
We do a U-turn at the end of the road and head back. The rest of the homes are quiet. A few have lights on, but nobody is outside. The sun has almost set.