“I… I’d left the car seat in the house.”
“You blew a one point eight.”
Sara considered responding, but the fight had long been beaten out of her.
Yes, she was a drunk. After Plincer’s Island, alcohol was the only thing that drowned out the nightmares. She came away from it scared and broke, and the DUI had been the final nail in her coffin of failure. Sara had to sell the house to pay for her legal fees, and still spent six months in jail for wreckless endangerment. When she got out, and was unable to get Jack back from the foster home the state had stuck him in. She was a single parent with a criminal record, no means of employment, and many—including the judge—were dubious of her role in the Rock Island Massacre. Without money for a good lawyer, Sara went back to drinking, winding up in this shit hole trailer park, trying to find the guts to eat that single bullet.
“How can you help?” she whispered.
“There’s an experimental program, going on this weekend. If you volunteer for it, you’ll be given one million dollars, and we’ll work with CPS to get your son back.”
Sara snorted. “A million bucks, and Jack? This is a joke, right?”
“It’s for real, Sara.” He reached into his jacket, took out some folded papers. “The details are in here.”
“What’s the program? Some sort of rehab?” As she said it Sara found herself looking around the kitchenette for any alcohol that might be left over.
The silent one finally spoke. “It’s about fear.”
Sara stared at him, and his smile was chilling.
“Fear?”
The other one continued. “You understand fear better than most people. The government wants to study how you react to fear.”
“Why?”
“Understanding fear can lead to controlling it. Certainly you can see the advantages to that.”
Sara’s brow crinkled. “So this is a fear study? Do they hook me up to some machine, then make me watch scary movies?”
The quiet one let out a chuckle. “Oh, it’s a bit more complicated than that…”
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Frank
“You’re not the Secret Service,” Dr. Frank Belgium said, scrutinizing the proffered badges that quite distinctly spelled out FBI.
“Our friends in the Secret Service told us where to find you,” said the agent on the right. His breath smelled medicinal. “We’re all Feds, so does it really matter?”
“Yes yes yes, in fact it does.”
Belgium inadvertently flashed back to the last time the Secret Service came calling, which is how he wound up at Samhain. Two men in black suits, with the proposition of a lifetime.
“We have a proposition for you,” the same agent said.
“No, thank you. I’m quite done done done with government work. Have a good night.”
Belgium moved to close the door, but the Fed stuck his foot in it.
“We’re well aware of your role in Project Samhain, Doctor. And how it turned out.”
Belgium again thought back to how that particular part of his life came to a close. About the evil loose in the world, which was partly his fault. He braced himself for the bad news.
Instead, he was surprised by bad news of a completely different kind.
“Instead of being a researcher, your government would like you to volunteer to be a test subject,” the agent said. “On a topic you know intimately well.”
“Molecular biology?”
“Fear,” said the other one.
Belgium wasn’t sure, but when the man spoke he flashed teeth that looked…
Well, they looked pointy.
“You’re invited to spend the weekend taking part in a unique experiment. You’ll be closely monitored to see how you react to fear. As you might guess, you have more experience in this area than most.”
That’s the understatement of the century, Belgium thought.
“For one day of your time, you’ll be given one million dollars. Plus your old job back at Biologen.”
Belgium raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
He’d been justifiably fired from Biologen years ago, due to negligence. Since then, they’d merged with the pharmaceutical company DruTech and had become the premiere biotech firm in the world.
“A million, and a job as head of the molecular biology department.”
Head of the department? That meant pure research, the thing in life Frank loved more than anything else.
He allowed himself a few seconds of fantasy. His own lab. Access to the best equipment. The most competent staff in the world. And no more grading ridiculous papers about plants’ reactions to household chemicals.
Then reality kicked in again, reinforced with some well-earned skepticism.
“So this has nothing to do do do with Samhain?”
“No.”
“Have you,” he chose his words carefully, “spoken with anyone else?”
“Several people. But no one you know.”
Which meant his friends from Samhain, Sun and Andy, hadn’t been approached.
But working for the government again? Could he possibly trust that?
The answer came swiftly and with finality.
Absolutely fucking not.
“It’s a tempting offer, gentlemen, but but but I’m going to decline.”
The lead agent stared deep into Belgium, his eyes emotionless. “If you don’t accept this offer, you’ll be executed for treason.”
“Treason?” Belgium squeaked. “I’ve never breathed a word of what happened, to anyone.”
“You know exactly what you did,” the agent said. “You know what you’re responsible for.”
The Fed spoke the truth. And Belgium had waited years for the evil he’d unleashed upon the world to appear again. He spent hours every week monitoring the world news, looking for evidence.
But so far, the evil had remained dormant. Belgium had even begun to hope it had disappeared completely.
“Your choice is to submit to the experiment and get a large cash settlement, along with your dream job. Or be taken to a secret prison and executed without a trial. And that threat extends to your associates.”
“Andrew and Sunshine Dennison,” the other said, giving Belgium another quick glimpse of his sharp teeth.
“I understand they’re expecting a child. Do you want to be responsible for destroying their family?”
Belgium did not want them to die. Nor did he want to die. Death was one of many, many things Frank feared.
“Then apparently I don’t don’t don’t have a choice. Where is this experiment supposed to take place?”
“Have you heard of Butler House?”
Belgium had. And as the blood drained from his face, he seriously wondered if being executed for treason was the better option.
Chicago, Illinois
Tom
“You think my partner was murdered, and it is somehow connected with this game show thing?”
The Feebies looked at each other.
“We’ve been investigating a man named Dr. Emil Forenzi. He may be involved in the disappearance of over a dozen ex-military personnel. From what we’ve been able to find out, he’s doing some sort of scientific research on the physical characteristics of fear.”
“He’s the one who sent the invitations?”
“We believe so.”
“And you think he may have killed Roy?”
“We’re not sure.”
“You guys don’t know much, do you?”
“Detective Mankowski, we believe Dr. Forenzi may in fact be funded by the US military. So certain avenues have been closed to us.”
Tom could understand that. The army, much like the government, tended to keep hush-hush about things above your pay grade. “Do you have any actual evidence?”