Freeman's arms itched. He should have taken his medicine. It took the edge off when the ups came, when his thoughts were bright icy spears and the world was sharp and he could climb a mountain if they would only let him use his legs. But the medicine also chewed into his brain, flattened out all those fears. He needed his fears. They kept him alive. They kept the troll under the shadows of the bridge, where it couldn't grab him and eat him.
And he would survive. One day he would leave this place and be free. He would outsmart them all. Even God. But for now, he needed to blow this shrink's mind. That was a good start.
He closed his eyes. He tried to recall the feeling he'd had in Thirteen, when Kracowski's machines kicked in and shot his brain on a roller coaster ride. He even forced his legs to tremble a little. But Starlene was a stone wall. If she had any thoughts besides concern for Freeman's well-being, she had them buried deep.
'Tell me what I'm thinking, Freeman,' she said, in that patient voice of hers.
Sweat arose along the back of his neck. He couldn't fail, not after he'd bragged so much. Even if she had him blocked this time, he still had that stuff he'd picked up in Thirteen after his treatment.
'You have a cat named T.S. Eliot.'
Starlene's eyebrows lifted. 'How did you find that out?'
'Triptrapping, just like I told you.' He was on again, riding the up, on a supersonic elevator to the top of the whole freaking world. No dumb shrink was going to put anything over on him. He just wished he knew who in the hell T.S. Eliot was. The name sounded familiar. A character actor, maybe?
Someone knocked on the door. Freeman moved to rise and answer, but Starlene held up her hand. 'Who's there?' she asked him, whispering.
Freeman closed his eyes and triptrapped over the bridge, opened up the big sky inside, and the screams hit him like a hundred of Daddy's fists.
He gasped and fell to the floor, and still the screams ripped through him, tore his hair out by the roots, yanked his fingernails, shattered his rib cage, knocked his lungs from his chest, and ate his tongue.
They're underneath.
And then he was down with them, in the dark rooms where their shadows walked.
Something tugged at him, and Starlene's voice came as if from across a canyon. 'Freeman? Are you okay?'
He was definitely not okay, because triptrapping had never been like this, it had always been one or maybe a few at a time, but now he was in a dozen, maybe a hundred, different heads. And these weren't ordinary heads.
God is a telephone and the Bible is written in shit on the walls; hats are part of a government conspiracy; how can you count to twelve if you can't say odd numbers; I am a tree I am a tree I am a tree and I leave.
You can only tell the doctors from the patients because the doctors get to go home at the end of the day.
If you kill yourself, pills taste better.
Pretty, pretty paper and a white, white room in which to write.
And more, lots more; words and thoughts and things that weren't thoughts but pieces of broken emotion stitched together, and through it all the wails grew louder, the voices combining now into a single scream and Freeman's head was going to explode and he rose away, triptrapped backward, but it was like climbing the slick walls of a dark well, and the water below was the voice, the voice grew louder and the scream sluiced through him like liquid lightning and Starlene shook him and his bones rattled against the floor and he opened his eyes and oh sweet merciful God he was in the little room again, the floor was solid against his cheek, his tears tasted so sweet, this was reality, he didn't ever want to leave his own head again and someone knocked at the door 'Freeman? What's wrong?' Starlene asked, kneeling over him and holding his shoulders.
He pushed his tongue against his teeth to make sure it was still there. 'They're underneath.'
She bent low, her breath on his face. 'Your pulse is going wild.'
'They said, 'Welcome to the party.''
'Who said it?'
The knock came again. Beyond the door, Bondurant shouted, 'What's going on in there? Miss Rogers, did you get clearance for this?'
Freeman pushed himself up. He didn't want to be on the floor, not with them underneath it.
As the echo of the last scream died away against the curves of his skull, a lone female voice stood out, calm and crystal clear, saying a single word: 'Free.'
TWENTY
'We need to go to the lake,' Freeman said, and Vicky instantly understood this was a new code, a secret language between them.
She couldn't read him quite as well as she had tricked him into believing the day before, but she needed to cut through some of his crap, skip that middle ground, and get to the heart of it all. This situation was bad and for the first time in her life, she didn't think she could survive it alone.
'Just don't try to hold my hand or anything,' she said as they turned down the worn path that led between the boulders.
'I'll leave that for Deke.'
'Don't be a jerk. Did somebody pee in your corn flakes or something? You've been weird today, even for you.'
Freeman slowed when they were out of sight of the counselors, then pulled Vicky into a rhododendron thicket. 'I saw them,' he said.
'Them?' Vicky felt the blood drain from her face.
'The people underneath.'
'The same them.'
'You've seen them?'
'Last night, I…' Would Freeman believe her? She didn't know if she could stand keeping it in anymore. He wasn't triptrapping through her head either; at least she couldn't feel that strange tickle, so he wouldn't know for sure that she was telling the truth.
'Tell me,' he said. 'I won't laugh at you.'
Sure. She'd never been laughed at. Vomit Queen was a term of endearment, after all. Daddy had never, ever criticized her. Mommy had never locked herself in her room with a bag of Oreos. And Vicky liked what she saw in the mirror. Sure.
Big deal if Freeman laughed. He was just another guy who thought just because he was finally growing his first pubic hair he was a real man, and it was common knowledge that all men were jerks. So even if Freeman were a jerk-in-training, she could bounce that laughter away like an overweight Wonder Woman blocking bullets with her golden bracelets.
'I saw a ghost,' she said before she had time to change her mind for the third time about trusting him.
'Did you… you know, read it, or whatever?'
'No. I saw one with my eyes. I sneaked out last night-'
'Outside? You mean you know a way out of there?' Freeman pointed behind the boulders in the direction of Wendover.
'Yeah, but that's not important right now. Anyway, Deke chased me into the basement-'
'You were out with Deke?'
Had jealousy flickered across his face? 'If you keep interrupting, we'll never get anywhere. Deke chased me into the basement, then I hid in the dark. There's all kinds of weird equipment, electrical generators and tanks and stuff. I think it has something to do with Kracowski's experiments. There's a bunch of rooms down there, too, like hospital rooms or jail cells. Deke went down one of the halls, and I followed him.'
'Behold the power of love.'
'Stuff it. We saw somebody, and I thought it was the geeky night watchman down there with a girlie magazine and a candy bar. But the person was shiny, and elusive as heck. I couldn't get a good look, but Deke
