Unidentified (12 page)

“Agent Mitchell,” Wilson shook his head, “Dr. Evans already admitted that the two of you were drinking. Now, I’m happy to run a tox screen. But if anything does turn up, how do you think this is going to look for Dr. Evans?”

She stared at him in shock now. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. And yet, she could understand how this looked. “You think he drugged me?” she said softly.

“Frankly, I don’t know what to think,” he said with a sigh. “All I know is that I have a lone FBI agent interfering with an investigation while getting drunk with her psychiatric consultant.” He leaned in closer now. “I looked into you, Agent Mitchell. I don’t think the Bureau is going to be too pleased.”

Mitchell looked at Wilson. She could see his condescension in his body language and eyes. In that moment, she hated him. He now stood squarely in her way. She needed to know what had happened to her, and it most definitely had not been Evens who had done any of this to her.

“I need to talk to Alan,” she said slowly but firmly.

Wilson sat back, letting out another sigh. He looked at her for a moment, then tapped his fingers on the table. “Okay,” he said at last.

With that he got up and left the room. Mitchell stared at the coffee. Her hands still shook slightly and she figured coffee was actually a terrible idea right now. She would rather have water. She waited for several minutes before at last, the door opened again and Evans walked in.

When he looked at her, she found that she involuntarily got to her feet. He crossed the room and took her into his arms, holding her tight.

“Are you okay?” he asked her.

They parted and she looked into his eyes wanting to convey quickly how committed she was to the words that next came out of her mouth.

“I need you to hypnotize me,” she said calmly.

Evans’s eyes grew wide. “What?”

“I can’t remember anything,” she said.

“You’re in shock.”

“I need you to do this for me,” she insisted.

He looked at her, his hands still gently holding her arms.

“Whoever did this just fucked up,” Mitchell said in a whisper. “They kidnapped a federal agent. I need to remember what happened. We can stop this!”

Evans looked off, shaking his head.

“It’s our only shot, Alan,” she said. “Please. Help me!”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Officer O’Conner yawned as she stood next to the police station’s camcorder. It sat atop a flimsy tripod. Evans had requested it. Wilson, clearly displeased with the whole situation, had shrugged it off and informed them that come morning, they would need to be out of his station. Mitchell wondered at his seeming lack of objections over what was about to happen. But maybe he was simply too tired to care anymore.

Evans stood by the door and drank a glass of water. A half full glass of water sat before Mitchell on the table next to the coffee she’d never touched. Evans sat down across from her, setting the empty glass on the table. He glanced over at O’Conner.

“Camera good to go?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” she said.

“Okay then. Roll it,” he said.

O’Conner pressed the record button and a tiny red light lit up just above the lens, which was pointed at Mitchell.

Turning back to Mitchell, Evans said, “Okay, Nicole. I need you close your eyes. Relax your body. Breathe deeply.”

She followed his instructions, closing her eyes. She rested her hands in her lap and tried to relax her shoulders. Her breathing slowed as she consciously took control of it.

“Focus on my voice,” Evans continued. “I’m going to count back from ten. When I reach zero, you’ll be back on the road where we saw the bright light.”

She nodded ever so slightly.

In a steady, soft voice, Evans counted down, “Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five.”

She felt his voice grow distant. Her body felt heavy, as if it was pulled down by an increase in gravity.

“Four. Three. Two,” said Evans’s distant voice. “One. Zero.”

She felt at first the drizzle, then the gun in her hand. She opened her eyes and what she saw before her was the light. She was out on the road again facing that floating bright light. Her heart began to beat faster now, and with it her breathing became quicker.

“What do you see?” She heard Evans’s distant voice ask her.

“The light,” she said softly. “Just the light.”

“What is the light doing?” Evans asked.

The light moved over her as it had before. “It’s moving over me,” she said, the whole time watching it.

It stopped above her. She had her gun raised, pointed at it. Again, she felt the panic wash over her. Why was she out there? A rush of coldness washed over her and she grew dizzy. Suddenly all of the air in her lungs was forcibly extracted. She gasped, though she wasn’t sure if she gasped only in her memory or if she gasped now as well.

“What is it, Nicole?” Evans said.

She felt her body moving, but she wasn’t moving it. Her back was arched as she tried to fight for control, but nothing she did allowed her to will her arms and legs to move. The light increased in intensity, and her whole body tingled as if immersed in a pool of cold bubbling water. Then suddenly, blackness. Silence.

“I can’t move,” she managed to say. “The light’s gone.”

“Can you see anything?” asked Evans.

A new light suddenly shone above her. She squinted, trying to get her eyes to focus. Where was she? Slowly, her eyes adjusted and she could see the source of the light was an oblong instrument at the end of an arm that appeared to hang from the ceiling, but she could see no ceiling. Beyond the light there was only blackness. She tried to move, but found that she had no control of her limbs. They were like dead weights her brain had no ability to communicate with anymore.

Slowly, feeling returned to her skin and she became aware of how cold she was. Next, she became aware of how naked she was. She could feel the hard flat surface of the metallic table beneath her. Her heart raced now. What had been done to her? She was no longer sure she wanted to remember what had happened to her, but she fought for composure. If she could remember, maybe she could stop this from happening to anyone else.

But the fear threatened to overwhelm her. A pungent odor reached her nostrils. She tried to kick her legs, and her left foot moved slightly. She craned her head up with all the force she could manage and looked down the length of her body. She saw bizarre instruments and devices around the table. She tried to move her foot again.

Out of the darkness, a slender grey hand shot out and took hold of her left ankle. She screamed. Her body spasmed as a vibration travelled throughout it. It was as if she had been shocked. But it was only the strong vibration of a shock with none of the pain. She lay still now, looking straight up, aware of the cold hand that still touched her ankle.

“What’s happening?” She heard Evans’s distant voice again.

“I’m on a table,” she managed to say. “Like a medical exam. I’m can’t move. I’m naked. And it’s so cold. I can smell them. One of them touched me.”

“How many are there?” Evans asked.

She forced herself to look around. She realized now that others had crept out of the darkness and stood over her, looking down at her with their black eyes. Their tiny mouths twitched slightly, but they made no sound.

“Yes. Four of them,” she said. “Standing around me. Just looking at me.”

One of the beings looked at her and she could feel a pressure inside her head as it did so. Suddenly, thoughts that were not her own entered her mind.

Don’t be afraid, Nicole. We have come to help you.

She fought to push the voice out of her head, but it repeated itself. A rush of anger caused her to shake slightly where she lay. She couldn’t decide which was the worse violation: being forced to lay naked on this metal table like some lab rat to be poked and gawked at, or having her mind invaded. Even the privacy and solitude of her own mind was now being violated, and she hated them for it.

“Are they talking?” Evans said.

“No. They don’t talk,” she heard herself answer. “Not with their mouths. It’s like, they talk to my mind. Telepathy.”

“What are they telling you?”

“Not to be afraid. They’re here to help us,” she said.

She felt tears slip down her cheeks and wondered if this was the memory or the present she felt.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t believe them!”

“Why not?” Evans persisted.

“I don’t know. I just don’t!”

One of the beings turned to another and nodded its head. That one appeared to punch commands into some sort of command panel attached to a large arm on the table. Another of the beings on the opposite side of the table reached out its hand and touched her stomach just below the belly button. She tried to recoil, but the thing pressed down hard.

Mitchell again tried to force her body to move.

“Nicole, listen to me,” came Evans’s voice. “This isn’t real. Look at them. Look past them.”

But she didn’t want to look. She just wanted them to stop touching her. A large machine arm swung out over her with an electric whir. A small beam of light emitted from it. It split into a web of light that traveled up and down her body, as if scanning for something. The devices around her emitted sounds and beeps. She wanted to shove it all to the ground, to break out of there. But she felt completely helpless, and she felt terrified by the beings.

“No. No,” she whispered. “I can’t look at them.”

She just wanted it all to end. One of the beings took hold of her head and forced her mouth open. The scanning arm hung over her mouth and emitted light into it.

“It’s okay, Nicole,” Evans voice came to her. “You said it yourself. They’re not real. So unmask them. Look at them for what they really are.”

“I’m too scared,” she heard herself say in a hoarse whisper, hardly able to get the words out.

“You can do this, Nicole,” he said.

She forced her eyes open and she stared up at the being that held her head. She stared into the black chasm that were those oversized shark eyes: eyes devoid of life, eyes that saw no light, but rather sucked all light from her world. She gasped as unrestrained terror washed over her.

***

Mitchell craned her head back as she sat at the table in the interrogation room. Evans worried she might hurt herself. Her whole body shook. Tears welled up in her up-turned eyes and ran down her face towards her ears. Her hair, still damp, was a wild tangle. She no longer looked like the emotionally wounded but attractive woman he’d nearly made love to only a couple of hours ago.

He felt the battling forces within him struggling for dominance. He wanted to simply pull her out of her current state and relieve her of her torment. But he also knew that she would be dissatisfied if she couldn’t come back from this with valuable information that could prevent Stephanie from disappearing like Tommy.

“Do you see them?” he asked her.

“Yes,” she said with a difficulty.

She twitched and jerked in her chair and the lights in the room blinked. Evans looked up at the lights then over to O’Conner. She shrugged. It wasn’t storming outside anymore. Mitchell still shook in her chair.

“What do you see, Nicole?” He asked.

Her body stopped shaking, but the lights in the room flickered again. She slowly lowered her head until she looked directly at him. Her eyes were focused and yet somehow hollow. For a second, Evans thought she’d come out of her hypnotic state, but she didn’t move.

He was about to speak when she said in a low voice,
“Derelinquas nos esse. Non venimus ad te.”

“What did you say?” he frowned.

“Derelinquas nos esse. Non venimus ad te,”
she said again, her voice a little louder, but unnaturally low.

“Nicole,” Evans said more firmly, though bewildered by this sudden turn. “Focus. Hear my voice.”

The room was plunged into darkness. Mitchell screamed now in an unnatural voice,
“Derelinquas nos esse! Non venimus ad te!
”

“Nicole!” he shouted. “I’m bringing you back. I’m going to count back from ten and you’re going wake up. Ten.”

“Derelinquas nos esse! Non venimus ad te!”

“Nine. Eight. Seven.”

“Derelinquas nos esse! Non venimus ad te!”
she shouted again, her voice becoming higher now.

“Six. Five. Four.”

The lights in the room came back on. Evans forced himself to stay focused on Mitchell.

“Three. Two.”

Mitchell craned her neck back again, her mouth opening wide. She released a wail that made Evan’s heart nearly stop.

“One. Zero.”

Silence.

Mitchell slumped in her chair. She breathed hard, exhausted by the ordeal. Perspiration beaded up on her forehead. Slowly, she looked up at Evans, her eyes now wide with fear.

“Nicole?” he said. “Are you okay?”

Slowly, she nodded.

“What were you yelling?” he asked.

She frowned slightly, her mouth dropping open. Her eyes searched his. She looked utterly bewildered by his question.

“I was yelling?” she said at last.

***

Diego stepped back into St. Jerome. How long had he stood out in the parking lot? How much time had he lost? His heart still raced. He felt lightheaded. He approached a male nurse that now sat at the desk. The man was young, probably only in his late twenties. He had wavy dark hair and even in uniform it was evident he was in good shape.

Diego considered how to approach this. But it seemed to him there was little point in being anything other than direct. His body felt heavy and his eyes longed to close. But all the same, his mind was wide awake and nervously buzzing with questions. He could feel his hands shake slightly, and still his knees felt slightly weak. The encounter had taken a lot out of him.

"I need to see Stephanie Clark,” He said.

The nurse looked up at him and said, “You a family member?”

“No. Her pastor,” he said, knowing full well what this would mean but knowing also that lying here was out of the question as later there would be too many other repercussions to be dealt with.

“I’m sorry,” the nurse shook his head. “I have express orders from the police and our head doctor not to let anyone in to see her. Only her parents, and even they were just ushered out of here and told to go home and get some sleep.”

“It’s an emergency,” Diego tried.

“What kind of emergency?” the nurse asked.

Diego looked around, feeling helpless. There was nothing he could say, no way he could spin this and not sound crazy. He had to see Stephanie, that much was clear to him. But how much time did he have? What could he possibly say to this man that would allow him access to Stephanie? The nurse waited with eyebrows raised as if to say, “well buddy, get on with it.”

“I really need to see Stephanie,” Diego muttered, deflated.

"I don’t know what to tell you buddy,” the nurse shrugged. “I have my orders. Trust me, she’s safe and sound. I just checked on her myself. She’s had one hell of night already, from what I was told. And now she’s sleeping it off thanks to what the doc gave her. I think your best bet is to chat with her parents tomorrow once they’ve had some sleep.”