Michael Prescott - In Dark Places

"Even if you do remember, evidence like this will never be allowed in court."

"I'm not thinking about court. I just want to know where our focus should be."

Wolper studied her. "You already think you know where to focus. You're sold on Brand."

"What makes you say that?"

"You've been working with Gray for months. You want to believe he's clean. But he's not. A leopard can't change his spots."

She had no time or energy to waste on arguing. "There's one other thing you need to know," she said. "The MBI process inhibits motor functioning. In other words, I'll be immobilized. It's natural. It doesn't mean there's a problem."

"Suppose there is a problem. Suppose you start spouting gibberishmore so than usual, that is. Or you start twitching and jerking"

"The term is seizing . It's unlikely. If it happens, end the session."

"How?"

"Press the enter key again. Okay?"

"I think I can handle that."

"So are you set?"

"One more question," Wolper said. "Have you ever done this before?"

"I do it all the time. It's my job."

"I mean on yourself."

She'd been hoping he wouldn't ask, but since he had, she gave a truthful answer. "Only twice. For experimental purposes. And I didn't go very deep."

"Nervous?"

This time she lied. "No."

She settled back in the chair, her hands on the armrests. Eyes closed, she practiced taking slow abdominal breaths.

"I'm ready," she said.

"Then here goes."

The appliance came on. The sudden clicking of the coils was louder than she'd expected. She worried that she might not be able to shift into alpha rhythm while distracted by the noise.

But even as that thought occurred to her, she felt the peculiar distancing of her mind from her body, the strange numbness that told her she was being carried gently away.

She needed a fantasy environment in which to feel safe, and she chose a park in Ojai, an artists' community near Santa Barbara where she and Dan had often gone with Meg.

No, she couldn't think of Megnot if she wanted to relax. Had to forget Dan, also. Too much baggage there.

She was in the park alone, untroubled, and it was a clear spring day. The breeze, laced with moisture from the Pacific a few miles distant, played over her skin and hair. The clicking of the coils receded. It became the chirping of crickets, the rustling of leaves.

In the park she settled down on the carpet of grass, sinking into the green, dewy shoots, letting sun and air envelop her. She was calm.

Wolper's voice reached her over the background sounds.

"It's been five minutes, Doctor. Are you relaxed?"

"Relaxed. Call me Robin."

"Okay, Robin. We need to talk about what happened here at your office a few hours ago. You were having a session with Justin Gray. Remember?"

"Yes."

"I want you to tell me how the session ended."

"It was amp; everything went dark."

"Before it went dark. Go back a few minutes earlier. Gray had the, uh, the helmet thing on. And I guess you were talking to him. Bringing him out of it?"

"Yes."

"So he comes out of the trance amp;"

"Yes."

"What are you doing right at that moment?"

She could see the scene playing before her closed eyelids. "Saving the session to a CD."

"And Gray?"

She heard Gray's voice in the background. "He's talking. Talking about his father. The way his father punished him." She heard the rustling of his jumpsuit. "And he's shifting in the chair. Restless amp;"

"What's happening now?"

"I'm labeling the CD. Writing with my pen." Bouncing circles of light over the letters she formed. "My flashlight pen."

"And then?"

Blackness. "Everything's dark."

"No, something happens before it all goes dark. Go back."

She reversed time, running it backward like a filmstrip. "Label the CD amp;"

"Right."

The light of the pen in her hand. Thenno light. "Dark. All dark."

"So you can't remember?"

"Can't amp;" This wasn't quite true. "Won't," she said slowly.

"Won't?"

This was odd. She needed to remember. But amp; "Don't want to."

"So you do remember. You just don't want to? Is that it?"

She didn't answer. She was trying to understand. Obviously some psychological defense mechanism was trying to protect her from reexperiencing the trauma. This was a good thing. It meant that the memory was there, retrievable, if she could overcome the mental barrier.

"Robin? Is that it?"

"Yes."

"Part of you remembers?"

"Yes."

"It's remembering right now?"

That sounded correct. "Right now," she whispered.

"Can you get in touch with that part of you?"

It was a good question, the proper question to ask, but she didn't know the answer. "Maybe."

"Will you try?"

"Don't want amp;"

"Will you?"

Her reluctance was irrational, but irrationalities could have as strong a hold as any rational conviction. Stronger, sometimes. She had to fight it, push past it.

"Robin? Will you?"

"Yes."

"What are you seeing now?"

The room wheeled around her. "I'm turning amp; turning in my chair."

"Why are you turning?"

"His voice. I hear it in his voice."

"Hear what?"

"Danger. A threat. So I'm turning amp;"

"Yes? You turn, and what do you see?"

"Dark."

Wolper sighed. "Everything's gone dark again? This isn't going to work, Robin. I'm sorry. It's a dead end."

He hadn't understood. She plunged forward in a rush of words. "The room is dark. I turned off the lights for the session. When I turn, I see the dark. Shadows. Movement amp;" She felt herself flinch and let out a soft cry.

"He hit me. I'm falling. I'm on the floor. He got loose, Justin got loose."

It was all happening again, happening at this moment, but in dreamy slow motion.

"You see him?" Wolper asked.

"Can't see. Too dark. Need to scream. Deputy's in the next room. If I scream amp; But his hand is on my mouth. He's leaning over me. There's light."

"What light?"

"The penlight. In my hand. It comes on. I see him. Right before he hits me again, I see him; I see his face ."

"Is it Gray?"

"No."

"Is it Brand?"

"No."

"Who is it, Robin?"

"You. I see you ."

She opened her eyes, and in the glow of the computer console Wolper smiled.

"That's right, Doctor," he said softly. "You saw me ."

After leaving Hollywood, Brand had driven into Newton Area, checking his rearview mirror to be sure he wasn't followed. He'd parked at the station house and gone inside, heading straight to his locker, ignoring the startled hellos from officers working the night watch.

There had been nothing in his locker except his uniform and his other gear. He'd gone over it twice, searching everywhere, until he was satisfied.

His house, then. It had to be in his house.

Back in his car, guiding the Crown Vic onto the freeway to make the crosstown run, he asked himself what the hell he was going to do. He didn't know.

This thing he'd gotten himself mixed up in was too big. Or maybe the real problem was that he was too small. The small fish always ended up as bait, snack food for the marlins and the sharks. He didn't have the clout andhe might as well face itdidn't have the smarts, either, to deal with his present circumstances. He was cornered, treed, sweating through his shirt, scared shitless, out of luck and out of moves.

God damn it, he hated his life.

The gate to his driveway was locked, as always. He got out of his car and opened it, then motored into the carport.

The gate was one gap in the bungalow's security. Would have been better to have an automatic gate that closed behind him as soon as he entered. Leaving it open until he closed it manually could allow an intrusion.