Neely Tucker - Only the Hunted Run

Turning, he saw Alexis and Josh, sitting next to each other on the back bench, both looking at him, apprehensive, wondering what was going on, what was with the sudden bitterness to his features. He could see it in them, written under the skin, that sense of dread-of the unknown, of things in the shadows that had fangs and claws and walked on two feet. They were seeing it in him. He was looking at a reflection of himself.

In that instant, he felt something shift inside of him, a long-ballasted weight that came unmoored. It drifted through his chest. Let go of it , the night voices said. The voices he heard before sleep, usually an indistinct mumble, whispered inside his head, for once with perfect clarity. The weight rose through him like a balloon. Let go of it . The murder and violence and horror. A blood-red balloon, rising. He willed it to go. At least, he tried to, that afternoon on the river. He would remember that later, how he had willed the muscles in his face and in his heart to relax.

Then he forced a smile to his lips and peeled off his shirt, just that quick, put his gimpy foot on the mat, then put his good one on the rail and pushed off. Sully Carter, over the side, poised in the darkening air, his arms out, the balloon rising fast above him, finally loosed, weaving skyward. He did not look upward to watch it. The evening chill fell over his skin. “Who’s with me?” he called.

He saw Josh rising, taking the bait, before he hit the water.

AS IN ALLthe Sully Carter books, I have worked factual events into a fictional universe. I have slightly altered the geography of the city, the layout of St. Elizabeths, and the architecture of several buildings to suit Sully’s purposes.

In 1998, Russell Weston stormed the U.S. Capitol building, gained entrance, and killed two guards before being subdued. Long diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic, he was held at St. Elizabeths for a time. He remains in a federal psychiatric hospital.

Walter Freeman researched the mentally ill at St. Elizabeths and helped perform the first lobotomy in the United States, at George Washington University Hospital. He later pioneered the transorbital procedure. His ice picks, barnstorming trips across the United States, and autopsies at St. E’s are all historical details. The dates of his final lobotomies-carried out in D.C.-roughly match the historical narrative.

The history of St. E’s is largely as described. The mentions of T. S. Eliot and Rosemary Kennedy are from historical records. St. E’s has been vastly downsized. Most of the former campus now houses the U.S. Coast Guard and the U.S. Department of Homeland Security.

The fictional is everything else.

As always, I’m indebted to everyone who makes this particular railroad go. Most notably, my adorable spouse Carol, who runs everything from the locomotive to the caboose. She has her very own cowbell.

I am very lucky to be represented by the redoubtable Elyse Cheney Literary Associates-Elyse, Alex, and Sam-thank you for that voodoo that you do.

At Viking, Allison Lorentzen gave Sully Carter a home to call his own, and has made all three of the books about him better. Thanks also to Rebecca Lang, Bennet Petrone, and Diego Nunez.

My day job for the past sixteen years has been at the Washington Post , one of the free world’s great newspapers. I’m indebted to my editors, Lynn Medford and Steven Ginsberg.

Elsewhere, Jack El-Hai, author of the definitive biography of Freeman, The Lobotomist , first wrote an excellent book, and then entertained further questions from me. For anyone interested in the history of the mentally ill in the United States, the PBS American Experience documentary in which Jack appears, also titled “The Lobotomist,” is as well done, sad, and horrifying as the book.

Freeman’s papers and tools are housed at the George Washington University Library in the Special Collections Research Center. I thank the staff, none of whom are reflected here, for their assistance. The autopsy pictures that Sully sees there are historical items but are no longer on public view. The ice picks are.

The Honorable Russell F. Canan’s stellar defense-counsel work took him to St. E’s to meet with clients on many an occasion before he became a judge at D.C. Superior Court. He patiently answered my queries about that process and about some of the basic legal language employed in C-10 hearings-although I changed almost everything about all of it. Former Assistant U.S. Attorney June M. Jeffries is always thoughtful when I ask about the mysteries of her profession.

The Committee is the Committee and what happens there stays there. Love all y’all.

Last, hugs to Chipo, Drew, and Paige. You guys are awesome. Erika, sweetheart, we love and miss you every day. You are with us everywhere we go.

Neely Tucker was born in Lexington, Mississippi, when kids used to run around in the chemical fog sprayed behind the mosquito truck, which his wife thinks explains a lot. He is a former foreign correspondent who worked in a lot of places, many of them where people would shoot you for free. He is the author of Love in the Driest Season , a memoir about war, reporting, and adopting his gorgeous elder daughter. A staff writer for The Washington Post , he lives in a house with a Jamaican, a Zimbabwean, two very small Americans, and one very large dog. They are all Saints fans. For more, see www.neelytucker.com.