The word on the street was that the rogue doctor in charge of the experimental lab at Riverview was in town and he was looking for her.
Marge was frightened, so terrified that she had not dared to spend the night in one of the shelters. Instead she had hidden in the stairwell of a parking garage. It had been cold but at least she had been out of the rain.
She hadn’t slept. She had stayed awake not just to keep watch for Delbridge Loring but to protect herself from the assholes who prowled the streets at night looking to rob and assault people like her. She had remained awake and alert for another reason, too. She needed to think; she needed a plan. Somewhere during the night she had made her decision.
At five o’clock last night she had huddled in a doorway and watched the line form outside the All Are Welcome shelter. The folks who worked there were very nice but they didn’t know about Riverview. Dr. Loring was real slick. If he came around asking about her they would probably tell him she was a regular. They’d think they were doing her a favor.
During the afternoon she had picked up the rumor that someone was searching for her. A man who claimed to be a doctor was going around to the places that provided services to street people. He told the staff he was looking for his long-lost aunt; said he had heard she was living on the streets of Seattle. He claimed he wanted to find her and take her home where she could be properly cared for. He said she was delusional because she believed she could see human auras.
Most of it was a lie, of course. She had no family. But one bit was true—she could see the energy that radiated around people.
That evening she had wanted to join the line of people waiting for the doors to open. She was hungry and it was tuna fish casserole day. The All Are Welcome staff did the best tuna fish casserole in the city.
She had almost convinced herself she could take the risk of entering the shelter when the fancy silver-gray car pulled up to the curb and stopped.
Loring had climbed out from behind the wheel. He was wearing a jacket, dark glasses and a baseball cap, not his white lab coat, but she would have recognized him and his powerful aura anywhere.
Terrified that he might notice her in the doorway, she had pressed herself against the wall and looked down at her feet so that he would not catch her eye. Even regular people who lacked the second sight could sense when they were being watched. Loring was not a regular person. He was one of the monsters.
When he had disappeared inside the shelter she had known she was in serious danger. Someone would tell him that a street lady named Marge who matched her description always showed up on tuna fish casserole day.
She had grabbed the handle of the wheeled suitcase that held all her worldly possessions and lurched out of the doorway. She had managed to slip into the garage behind a car that had disobeyed the big sign instructing drivers to wait until the security gate had closed. Once inside it had been a simple matter to hide in the stairwell.
A couple of weeks back a man from the Foundation, Slater Arganbright, had given her a card. He’d told her that if she ever felt threatened by someone from Riverview she was supposed to call the number on the card.
She had escaped from Riverview a couple of months ago and she had been doing okay on the streets of Seattle ever since. Her ability to see auras made it possible for her to avoid the real crazies and the monsters. But she lived in fear that Delbridge Loring and the clones who worked for him would track her down, kidnap her and take her back to the locked ward at Riverview. If that happened they would shoot her full of drugs again. She didn’t think she could survive any more of their damned experiments.
At dawn, one thing had become crystal clear. It was time to call Las Vegas.
She waited until one of the day shelters opened at six thirty. It was a nice place that offered coffee and doughnuts. It also provided a telephone.
She called the number on the card. A man with a deep, reassuring voice answered on the first ring.
“This is Lucas Pine,” he said.
Marge gripped the phone very tightly. “My name is Marge. From Seattle. A man named Arganbright gave me this number a while back. He said I was supposed to call you if the damned doctor or his clones from Riverview came looking for me. Well, the monster is here so I’m calling.”
“Hang on, Marge. I think you should talk to Victor Arganbright.”
A couple of beats later another man came on the line. He didn’t sound as warm and polite as the one called Pine. Victor Arganbright was gruff but not mean. His voice was that of a man with a lot on his mind.
“This is Arganbright.”
“My name is Marge—”
“I know who you are, Marge. My nephew Slater told me about you. You gave him and Catalina Lark a lot of help a couple of weeks ago. The Foundation is very grateful to you. First things first. Are you in immediate danger?”
“I’m okay for now. I’m in a shelter but I can’t stay here long. Someone from Riverview is looking for me. His name is Delbridge Loring.” Marge lowered her voice. “He’s one of the monsters.”
“Tell me about him,” Victor said.
“He runs the experiments at Riverview. He sends the clones to find people like me, people living on the street. Folks who can see things, understand?”
“People who can see auras, yes, I understand. He targets those who won’t be noticed if they just disappear.”
“Exactly.” A wave of relief swept over Marge. Victor Arganbright got it. “Always figured Loring might try to find me. He knows I could spill the beans about what he’s up to there at Riverview. But here’s the strange part—he didn’t send the clones after me. He’s here in town himself. What does that tell you?”
“It tells me that you may know more than you realize,” Victor said. “The first step is to make sure you’re safe. If it’s okay with you, I’m going to send some people I trust to pick you up and take you to Fogg Lake. At the moment it’s the most secure place I can think of. Do you know it?”
“Sure. I know some real nice folks who grew up there.”
“Catalina Lark and Olivia LeClair?”
“Yep.”
“There’s a team of cleaners protecting Fogg Lake while the Foundation experts chart what’s left of the old government lab there. No one gets into town unless they have been cleared by the Foundation or one of the locals. In Fogg Lake everybody knows everybody else. Strangers stand out.”
“Those people in Fogg Lake,” Marge said. “Are they okay with people like me?”
Victor snorted softly. “Trust me, in Fogg Lake, everyone is comfortable with people who see auras. Tell me where you are. I’ll have Olivia LeClair and a couple of cleaners there within fifteen minutes.”
“Okay. Thanks. I figure the Foundation is the only outfit that can handle Loring and Garraway and those damned clones. Tough bunch there at Riverview.”
“I understand,” Victor said. “Fifteen minutes. If Olivia is not with the people who come to pick you up, stay inside. Don’t leave the shelter. Call me back immediately.”
“Got it,” Marge said.