Well, that was just plain shitty.
“It’s not a big deal,” Brooklyn added. “There’re lots of people like me here. Ian’s pretty much in the same boat. We’re not mentally ill. We’re just rich.”
Trevor ground his jaw. This mission had been hard enough before when it meant getting into the isolation ward, figuring out what Mahsood was up to, finding the shifter, and coming up with a way to stop any hybrid research, all without making a lot of noise. Now he needed to add a couple more tasks to his to-do list, namely putting Brand and this place out of business and helping Brooklyn and the other people like her get out of here.
But one thing at a time.
“You ever see or hear anything weird going on around here?” he asked.
Brooklyn lifted a brow. “Other than the obvious weird crap you’d expect in a place like this?”
“Yeah, other than that.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’ve had new people ask me how to duck their meds and where the doctors keep the really good drugs. One guy even asked me which nurse might be willing to get busy with a semistable mental patient. But I’ve never had anyone ask me a question as strange as that.”
He smiled and shrugged. “Maybe I’m a bit strange myself. Humor me. Have you seen or heard anything lately that doesn’t fit with the norm in this place?”
Brooklyn’s look became even more suspicious. “You’re different from the other patients who get dumped in here.”
“Yeah, I am.”
She was silent, as if weighing his words. Finally, she must have come to some conclusion, because she nodded. “There are a lot more orderlies working here than there used to be. They’re bigger and meaner, too.”
“Anything else?”
Brooklyn thought a moment. “There’s something different happening in the wacky ward. It started about six months ago when these new doctors showed up but has gotten worse in the past few weeks.”
Mahsood had been here since December? That meant he must have come straight here when he’d left Costa Rica.
“I’m guessing wacky ward is the isolation ward?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yeah. Some of us old-timers call it that. It’s where Dr. Brand takes people when their meds stop working or they’re being difficult. People stay in there a few days, sometimes a week, then come back really chill.”
She jerked her head at two older men sitting on one of the couches, staring at the TV with unfocused eyes, faces slack.
“They’ll be like that for a while until whatever drugs Dr. Frankenbrand gave to them wears off.”
Nice. As if he didn’t already have enough motive to put Brand out of business.
“That’s bad enough, but when those new doctors showed up, they started doing strange stuff with the patients, like taking blood samples and cheek swabs all the time.” Brooklyn looked around nervously and lowered her voice. “A little while after that is when we started hearing strange sounds from the wacky ward at night. Like freaky, scary sounds.”
She must have thought Trevor didn’t believe her, because she held up a hand as if swearing an oath. “I know what you’re thinking. All crazy people hear sounds that aren’t there, but there’s someone screaming like an animal in there. Sometimes more than one person.”
“I believe you,” he said softly.
One person making sounds could be the shifter. More than one meant Mahsood had already created at least one hybrid.
“Anything else weird going on?” Trevor asked.
Brooklyn began playing with the end of her ponytail again. “About a month ago, they started taking certain people to the ward with no justification at all. And now when people go in there, they don’t come back.”
“Certain people?” he prompted.
She nodded. “Everyone who’s gone there recently has been a patient who didn’t get any family visitors. Like my friend Ian.”
Trevor had been wondering where the other kid was this whole time they were talking. “They took Ian? When?”
“A week ago.” She swallowed hard. “He punched an orderly who was getting all grabby with me, and they said he was being disruptive. I’ve asked about him every day since, but no one will tell me anything. I’m getting scared as hell that when he comes back, he’ll be like those old guys on the couch and won’t know who he is, much less who I am.”
