Uncovering You 10: The Finale (15 page)

I choke and gag and try to spit them out. Then Rose comes up to us, ever-so-softly, and hands Esteban a long-necked glass bottle. He stuffs it between my lips.

Big Man tilts my head back.

“Easy now. Easy now,” Esteban repeats. “Drink. Swallow. Don’t fight. Don’t make it worse.”

I cannot breathe. But for the life of me, I do not want those vile drugs in my system. The camera, blinking in the background, mocks me with its serenity.

I splutter as the liquid floods my throat. I don’t swallow. Then, in a terrible fit of panic, I gasp a breath. The water goes down the wrong way. Still my head is locked in place, with Esteban holding my nostrils shut, and that bottle held to my lips.

I’m drowning. I try one last desperate attempt to spit it out, to spit all of it out.

“Drink!” Esteban insists. “Drink it, Lilly! Drink it now!”

Big Man adjusts his grip. The pressure on my throat lessens. By instinct, by the self-preservation mechanism that forces me to breathe, I gag down the horrible water, pills and all. I swallow, and glug it all down. As soon as I do, I’m let go.

I fall to the floor. I gasp for precious air. “No, no, no,” I cry, choking and sputtering. A coughing fit overtakes me. My body tries to dispel the liquid caught in my lungs. I lie on my stomach, in a pool of my own spit, my front drenched with water or whatever it is that I was given. All I can think is:

I’ve failed. They got the drugs into my system. I’ve failed.

Esteban’s laughter abounds from above me. It’s a hysterical sort.

“Hold her,” Rose’s voice rises up from the dim. “Make sure she doesn’t try to induce vomiting.”

Rough hands jerk me up and pull me to my feet. I feel broken, abused.

I’ve already lost
.

“Now,” Esteban brushes a hand through his hair, addresses the camera once more. “You know what she’s been given. You know that your little Lilly-Flower is absolutely under our control. The clock is ticking now, Mr. Stonehart. Your esteemed father tells me that, quite soon, the drugs will begin to consume her mind. The only way to stop it…” He laughs. “…is the consistent administration of the counteragent. Which, it just so happens, we have right here.” He lifts a small vial to the lens. “Unfortunately for you…” He shakes the bottle. “…it seems to be in short supply. So if you want to see your Lilly, clear and lucid, I’d advise you to make the decision on our offer quickly.”

“Don’t do it!” I sputter. “Jeremy don’t! Whatever it is, don’t do it!”

“Shut her up,” Esteban snaps.

Big Man seals a hand over my mouth.

“Now give me that,” Esteban addresses the leader of his gang, motioning to the camera.

Scar Face unhooks it from the tripod and hands it to him.

Esteban takes it and pans it about the room. Hugh nods at it. Rose gives a little wave.

Hate is not a word strong enough to describe the loathing I feel for them then.

“Mr. Blackthorne?” Esteban asks. “Wasn’t there something you wanted to say?”

“Yes, of course,” Hugh bows his head. “Thank you for the reminder. Lilly…” He looks at me. “I have to admit that I was not truthful before. Those red pills? They
are
the ones that ruin your mind. And what we can give you is not a substance that induces the visions, but one that takes them away.” He spreads his hands. “I am sorry. The half-life I told you about? That’s the half-life of the counteragent. Not the activator. There is no activator unfortunately. Such a thing simply does not exist. We will give you enough to have you stay with us, mentally, at first. After all,” He smiles. “we don’t want you to degrade to the state that your father is in. Not just yet.” He motions at Esteban. “Go on, my boy.”

“Thank you,” Esteban turns the camera to himself. He holds the vial up once more. “So, Mr. Stonehart. This is all we have of the counteragent. The only company in the world that can give us more? Stonehart Industries. Now you see why our demands are not so unreasonable. And, if you care about this nasty little girl half as much as I am led to believe, I think that we’ve just strengthened our bargaining position.”

Esteban starts pacing circles around the room, speaking right into the camera again. “Here are the instructions once more: First, you will transfer all stock that you hold of Stonehart Industries to your father’s name.” He giggles. “Quite an ironic twist. Don’t you think? You took his company from him in your youth. And now he, weathered and old, takes control of yours from you in your prime.” Esteban glances at Hugh. “No disrespect meant, of course, sir.”

Hugh waves it away. “I know who I am,” he says, taking Rose’s hand.

“Next,” Esteban continues. “Once that is done, you will arrange all the paperwork to have Dextran annexed from Stonehart Industries in full. I want my company back too, Mr. Stonehart. My friend here will sign the executive order putting all that in place once he becomes majority shareholder. Isn’t that right, Mr. Blackthorne?”

“Of course,” Hugh says.

I try to struggle against Big Man, to break out of his grip and scream for Jeremy not to do it. But, I’m much too weak. I feel like a flailed prisoner, shattered and torn.

“Oh, I’d like something too,” Rose says, her voice pitching up as if her declaration is totally spur of the moment.

Esteban turns the camera to here. “Say your will.”

Rose walks up to me. She smiles and picks at the arm of my robe. “You were such a pretty thing, once,” she tells me softly. “And I picked out so many pretty clothes for you.”

She spins around and announces grandly: “Jeremy, I want to have the ability to pick out pretty clothes for
myself
, too. Pretty clothes and diamonds and jewelry and rings. Over the years, I’ve grown accustomed to your exquisite tastes. It’ll take money for me to buy all those things. Lots and lots of money. So…” She smiles a nasty smile. “…I want it all. Your entire fortune, transferred to me. Oh, but don’t worry. I’ll be nice, and let you keep that precious little retreat in the woods. The one you relegated my dear Hugh to. How did you phrase it, so eloquently, that one time? ‘Retirement calls for you, old man’?” She laughs. “It’ll be your retirement that is achieved,
Little
Jeremy. Oh, and the forty million you promised for Lilly? I’ll take that, and distribute it amongst our three guards.” She winks at them. “So you see: Your reward was never in any real danger of being claimed.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

I’m left alone afterward. Hugh’s promise of freedom to explore the island was another lie.

As soon as they’re gone, I stick two fingers down my throat and try to hurl. I dry heave more than once, my body seizing up on itself in painful convulsions. They rip through my insides like sharp barbed wire.

I start to cough. I cough up blood. I see it on the floor, on my hands.

At least the lights are on. At least I’m not left in the dark—

A convulsion of enormous force overtakes my body. Pain splinters through every last synapse.

I cry out and clutch my stomach.

A second convulsion comes. Then a third. Each one is accompanied by relentless pain, by the most horrible agony. My back breaks out in sweat. Suddenly, I feel too hot, way too hot. The cotton of my robe is suffocating me worse than a sweat suit in a sauna.

I rip it off and hurl it away. I’m barely conscious of the cameras in the four corners of the ceiling. My insides are burning up. The pain consumes me. I start to pant. The unnatural sweat only becomes worse. My legs start trembling, then my arms, until finally my whole body is overtaken by uncontrollable shaking.

I cry. I curl up in the middle of the floor and cry. The convulsions don’t stop. The pain doesn’t go away. And the heat—it only gets worse and worse and worse.

I close my eyes, and then—nothing.

Chapter Twenty-Three

When I open them again, I’m lying on a soft, comfortable bed.

A gentle breeze flows over my skin. Birds sing in the background.

Where am I
?

I’m not sure.

I feel… safe. Languid. Secure.

I pick myself up and look around. I smile when I recognize my surroundings.

I’m on Jeremy’s beautiful tropical island. Somebody has brought my bed outside, right on the beach. I stand, and feel the warm sand between my toes.

I hear a voice calling my name behind me. “Miss Ryder. Miss Ryder!”

I turn. Manuela is there, running up to me. She has a tall green cocktail in one hand.

“For you,” she says, smiling.

I take it from her, and nod thank you. I’m parched. I bring the straw to my mouth and take a small sip.

The drink is delicious. Exquisite. It tastes wonderful, like sunshine and pineapples and kiwis and sex.

Manuela watches me, smiling eagerly. “Mr. Stonehart had that prepared for you,” she tells me. “He said it’s your favorite drink. He’s waiting right there, back in the mansion…”

I keep drinking, never wanting the pleasant liquid to run out. Then, I’m gripped by a sudden sense of immense alarm.

Manuela didn’t speak English. Nobody would call the beachside villa a
mansion
…

I stumble forward and almost fall. My vision blurs. When I look up, the island is gone. I’m surrounded by four white walls, with my bed in the middle. And it’s not Manuela standing there, but
Rose
.

“Enjoy day one of your hell,” she tells me, snatching the glass from my hand and closing the door.

Seventy-two hours. That’s how long Hugh said the counteragent would last.

I lie in a cold sweat in the middle of my white bed. I’m afraid to move. I’m afraid to do anything that might make me lose my grip on reality.

After a few hours, I muster up the courage to go to the bathroom and turn the shower on. Just to have some noise. Just to have something to cling to when the visions come.

I’m terrified of what I might see next. I press the button to turn the water on and run back to my bed.

Every new sound spooks me. Every noise, every crack, every rustle. I feel the clock ticking in the back of my mind.
Sixty eight hours left
. And then the drugs will take hold. The counteragent will expire.

And then I will give in to schizophrenia.

I shiver, cower, and lie in a cold sweat. I stare at the door. My heart pounds with immense force, every beat like the thud of a blacksmith’s hammer.