disappear—he might already know. Is your cell phone turned off like I asked?”
“We’re going to talk to him,” says Agent Leonard, “but not because we suspect him of anything. We just want to figure out why you see certain people as faceless.”
“Because they’re trying to kill me!”
“Tell me, Michael, have you ever seen one of these faceless people in a custodial uniform? Like a brown jumpsuit?”
“No, why?”
“Does the name Brandon Woods mean anything to you?”
“Should it?”
“How about a chemical company called ChemCom?”
“No—where is this all going?”
Devon comes back. “Is everything okay, Michael?”
“We’re actually done here,” says Agent Leonard, standing up. “We’ll see if we can find either of these people he’s talking about—see if they’re real, see if they have any connection at all to the murders. No sense going any further if all we’re getting from him is made-up junk.”
“I’m not making it up.”
“At least not on purpose.” He walks to the door. “Dr. Little says your treatment’s working, so when your mind’s cleared up a bit we’ll be back with more questions.”
Devon holds the door open. “You mean if these leads check out?”
“No, we’re coming back either way. This is a psych hospital, right?” He looks at me. “Sounds like the perfect place to ask about your mother.”
Devon walks him to the gate. I can’t see the numbers when he types them in.
“Come on, man,” says Devon, walking back to me, “it’s time to get cleaned up.” I let him turn me and lead me to the shower.
If the FBI are here then the reporter was right, and they really do suspect me. And if the Faceless Men are here, traveling openly, then the hospital really is working with Them. Or for Them. That would explain Devon’s buzzing. Is Linda in on it as well, or Dr. Little?
What about the other patients?
I need to be more careful. When we get to the shower I leave the hot water turned off, just to be sure, and brace myself for the frigid blast.
SEVEN
SOMETHING TOUCHES MY ARM and I jerk awake, shouting wordlessly. A light blinds me, and I throw up my hands to shield my face.
“Easy,” says a woman’s voice, “it’s just me.” I feel a hand on my arm, soft and feminine, and when my eyes adjust I see a pretty woman holding a small penlight. At first I think it’s Lucy, but she shines the light on her face and I see that it’s not. “I’m sorry to wake you, Michael. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Shauna, the night nurse. Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah, just … scared is all. Just startled. I’m fine.”
“Sorry about that. I didn’t want to wake you up, but I guess I did anyway, huh?” She holds my wrist and shines the light on her watch, taking my pulse. I wait, watching her count. When she finishes she keeps her hand on my wrist, holding it lightly.
“How are you feeling?”
“You can turn the light on if you want,” I say. “It’s better than the…” I look at the flashlight in her hand, wondering if the Faceless Men can tap into it the way they do with the other devices—it creates an electric field, at least a small one, but it can’t really send or receive a signal. Or maybe this one can, if the Faceless Men have infiltrated the hospital. I want to tell her to keep it outside, but I also want to look normal. I can’t escape if they keep suspecting me. “I’m great,” I say, nodding. “I’m fine.”
“Okay,” she says. Her fingers on my arm are cool and calming. “Is there anything you need?”
I pause. It’s been too long since the reporter was here—she said she’d be back in a few days, but it’s been over a week. What went wrong? Was it too hard to find evidence in my favor?
“Do you know … Is there some kind of list of people who come to visit? Like a sign-in sheet or something?”
“There is,” she says, nodding. “Would you like me to check on
“We’re going to talk to him,” says Agent Leonard, “but not because we suspect him of anything. We just want to figure out why you see certain people as faceless.”
“Because they’re trying to kill me!”
“Tell me, Michael, have you ever seen one of these faceless people in a custodial uniform? Like a brown jumpsuit?”
“No, why?”
“Does the name Brandon Woods mean anything to you?”
“Should it?”
“How about a chemical company called ChemCom?”
“No—where is this all going?”
Devon comes back. “Is everything okay, Michael?”
“We’re actually done here,” says Agent Leonard, standing up. “We’ll see if we can find either of these people he’s talking about—see if they’re real, see if they have any connection at all to the murders. No sense going any further if all we’re getting from him is made-up junk.”
“I’m not making it up.”
“At least not on purpose.” He walks to the door. “Dr. Little says your treatment’s working, so when your mind’s cleared up a bit we’ll be back with more questions.”
Devon holds the door open. “You mean if these leads check out?”
“No, we’re coming back either way. This is a psych hospital, right?” He looks at me. “Sounds like the perfect place to ask about your mother.”
Devon walks him to the gate. I can’t see the numbers when he types them in.
“Come on, man,” says Devon, walking back to me, “it’s time to get cleaned up.” I let him turn me and lead me to the shower.
If the FBI are here then the reporter was right, and they really do suspect me. And if the Faceless Men are here, traveling openly, then the hospital really is working with Them. Or for Them. That would explain Devon’s buzzing. Is Linda in on it as well, or Dr. Little?
What about the other patients?
I need to be more careful. When we get to the shower I leave the hot water turned off, just to be sure, and brace myself for the frigid blast.
SEVEN
SOMETHING TOUCHES MY ARM and I jerk awake, shouting wordlessly. A light blinds me, and I throw up my hands to shield my face.
“Easy,” says a woman’s voice, “it’s just me.” I feel a hand on my arm, soft and feminine, and when my eyes adjust I see a pretty woman holding a small penlight. At first I think it’s Lucy, but she shines the light on her face and I see that it’s not. “I’m sorry to wake you, Michael. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Shauna, the night nurse. Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah, just … scared is all. Just startled. I’m fine.”
“Sorry about that. I didn’t want to wake you up, but I guess I did anyway, huh?” She holds my wrist and shines the light on her watch, taking my pulse. I wait, watching her count. When she finishes she keeps her hand on my wrist, holding it lightly.
“How are you feeling?”
“You can turn the light on if you want,” I say. “It’s better than the…” I look at the flashlight in her hand, wondering if the Faceless Men can tap into it the way they do with the other devices—it creates an electric field, at least a small one, but it can’t really send or receive a signal. Or maybe this one can, if the Faceless Men have infiltrated the hospital. I want to tell her to keep it outside, but I also want to look normal. I can’t escape if they keep suspecting me. “I’m great,” I say, nodding. “I’m fine.”
“Okay,” she says. Her fingers on my arm are cool and calming. “Is there anything you need?”
I pause. It’s been too long since the reporter was here—she said she’d be back in a few days, but it’s been over a week. What went wrong? Was it too hard to find evidence in my favor?
“Do you know … Is there some kind of list of people who come to visit? Like a sign-in sheet or something?”
“There is,” she says, nodding. “Would you like me to check on
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