“I will never forgive you. Even if I wanted to, I can’t.” He put his hands in his hair and looked at the ground. “I know you were sick. I know you couldn’t control what you did. That’s the only reason I’ll give you until I come back out of my house to leave my property. If you are here I will kill you.” He marched into his house, a worn screen door slamming behind him.
Allison scrambled up from the dusty driveway, wiping the tears from her face as she climbed into the truck, backed down the driveway, and swung onto the road away from Apple Acre Farm.
Chapter Ten Dr.Neff
Daylight was fading as the Collectors arrived back at the medical camp. Dr. Neff stood in front of the tent, waiting. When the men exited the vehicles and scurried to their tents, he knew they had failed. The commander avoided eye contact as he walked over to Dr. Neff.
“She’s gone, sir.” The commander stood tall, eyes fixed straight ahead.
“What do you mean she’s gone?” he hissed.
“We met our informant on the way to the Wilton farm. He said he had seen her leave in the Wiltons’ blue truck. I sent a few men to stake out the place and they confirmed it. No girl, no truck.”
“The Wiltons must know where she is.”
“We did not engage with them in case she was coming back. We didn’t want to show our hand.”
“You go again. This time I’m going with you. Get out of my sight.” Dr. Neff stormed back into the tent as the commander hurried away. He threw a clenched fist at a table as he passed it, knocking the contents to the floor. The loud clatter of medical instruments falling to the ground and the heavy footsteps of the doctor sent a wave of gasps throughout the tent. Everyone darted out of his way, but one nurse was not quick enough. She stepped out from a curtained room just in time for Dr. Neff to catch her with his narrow eyes as he stomped down the hall. With fury in his eye he zoned in on her. The new focus of his wrath. She attempted to step back into the room, out of his reach, but it was already too late; she was within his grasp.
Dr. Neff seized a fistful of her black hair, pushing her back into a curtained room, shoving her forward in front of him. He slapped her across the face as he released her hair, sending her spinning around. She fell back into a table and grasped at it, trying to keep herself upright as she searched for an exit.
“Please, please!” she cried as he slammed his foot into the back of her knee, sending her crashing to the ground as the table slipped out from under her. She cried out in pain as she landed on all fours on the hard floor. He slammed his foot down directly on her back, pressing her body into the grungy tile. He shifted all his weight to his one leg, standing on her back until he heard the snapping ribs. He pulled his other foot up, so he was standing on the woman’s back as she struggled to free herself. Dr. Neff jumped, landing on the woman’s back, feeling her spine bend unnaturally beneath his feet.
The nurse whimpered. Blood dripped from the corners of her mouth with each raspy breath she tried to take.
Dr. Neff stepped down from her back and kicked her side, pushing her fractured ribs further into her lungs. The force from the kick flipped the woman over onto her back, ensuring she saw the madness on her attacker’s face. She stuttered as she tried to speak, little red bubbles forming at her lips, drowning out all of her words. Her tears ran down her face, mixing with her blood, staining her cheeks and neck with pink streams.
He then straddled the woman, holding her in place, crushing her chest further with his weight, as he slammed fist after fist into her face until she was unmoving. His body relaxed as he felt his anger fade from a three-alarm blaze to the crackle of a campfire. He stood, dusted himself off.
“Guard! I need a Collector over here!” Dr. Neff called down the barren hall. A Collector rounded the corner and jogged toward him. “Put her on ice for Christopher’s return. No need to waste. Meat is hard to come by.” The Collector nodded and Dr. Neff took off down the hall once again without glancing back. Once he reached his office, he poured himself a glass of Scotch, noticing the blood covering the backs of his hands before wiping them on the bar towel. He then sat on the couch near his desk and propped his feet on the coffee table, observing his khaki pants now covered in blood spatter. As he sipped his Scotch and picked up a steel framed picture of Christopher from his desk, Dr. Neff’s face softened.
“I’m so close, son. So close,” Dr. Neff said, his voice tender and kind. “I can’t cure them all. But I will cure you, Christopher. I promise. I think I’ve found the key.” Dr. Neff threw back the last of
