Suspicious Minds (Stranger Things Novels #1)(15)

How alive her senses were here, deeper, wherever deeper was.

An acid trip, that’s where it is.

She felt pressed forward by invisible hands. There was no smell here. No sense of time here.

Was she afraid? Maybe.

Every so often she heard something. A voice from far away. A stolen piece of conversation. Nothing in front of her, nothing behind her.

Everything in front of her. Everything behind her.

A soothing voice spoke to her.

“Terry, where are you now?” the man asked. “Can you hear me?”

“Deeper,” she said, automatically. “Yes.”

“I want you to clear your mind…Now, what do you see?”

“Nothing.”

“Good, that’s good. Now, Terry, it’s very important that you do as I say. Do you understand?”

“I do.”

“I want you to imagine the worst day of your life. I want you to tell me what happened. Be there inside that moment again.”

The memory rose up before she could stop it, but she pressed it back. “I don’t want to.”

“I’ll be there with you to keep you safe.” His voice was as steady as a boat on a calm lake. “This is important. Can you tell me about it?”

A hazy, brilliant white appeared in front of her. She had to imagine that she walked right up to it before she knew what she was seeing.

The doors were wooden, painted white, crosses carved into grain. She’d last seen them the day of her parents’ funeral. It was held at the church where they’d gone one out of every three or four Sundays, every two if her father was feeling guilty about not attending more often.

“Tell me what you see.”

Terry placed her palm against the church door and pressed. “I forgot something in the car and I had to go back. Becky’s already inside.”

“Inside where?”

“The church.”

“When is this?” he asked.

“Three years ago.” Terry took a step up the center aisle and it creaked under her step. The pews passed around her as she moved forward. Light poured in through stained-glass windows the church had raised money to have put in. Jesus with his arms outstretched. A lamb and a haloed light. Jesus on the cross with bleeding hands and feet…

She wanted to turn and run, just as she’d wanted to that day. But she kept walking. Her throat was tight, her eyes red from days spent crying.

Becky turned and gave her a watery smile. “They look nice,” she said. “He did a good job on Mom.”

The altar had been moved aside. Terry looked at the caskets, modest polished wood, side by side. Becky had gasped at the cost in the funeral director’s office, but they had no choice. Her mother and father were peaceful, eyes closed like they might be sleeping.

“But they’re not sleeping,” Terry said. “They were in an accident…a car crash. We went to the hospital, but…they were already gone. We weren’t sure at first we could even have a viewing.”

“And this day was the worst?” the man asked. “Not the day of the accident?”

A sob pushed out of Terry’s chest and she collapsed against her father’s casket. “This…This because then it was real. The funeral. I hadn’t seen them…We knew…Then I believed it. They—they were never coming back to us.”

“I see.”

A moment of quiet in which she cried and Becky patted her back and she felt selfish because Becky must feel the same awful hurt…

The man continued. “I want you to take everything you feel in this moment, remembering, and put it in a box. Tuck it away. When you come out of this state, you will remember the loss, but not the pain. The pain will be gone.”

That was impossible. Terry missed them less now, but still every day something reminded her. “I…”

“Do it now. Imagine a box, and put the feelings inside and away. It will help.”

Terry did as he said. “Okay,” she said, feeling heavy and light at the same time.

“When you awake, you will remember only what you saw, not what I told you to do.”

“Okay,” she said again, but panic surged. “Where am I?”

“You’re right here in the lab. Terry Ives, I want you to wake up now. You’re safe.”

She ran toward the promise in his voice, her feet touching nothing as she pounded toward the words and then, gasping, she bolted upright. Her fingers gripped thin white sheets. Her skin was slick with sweat.

The room in the lab was fuzzy, blurry, but not dark. Filled with cool light. Her vision got clearer.

She was having a trip. That was all, right? The government had sent her on an acid trip.

She located the red line on the heart monitor and watched as her heart returned to a steady rhythm. Dr. Brenner sat down beside her, placing a hand on her arm. He made circles, comforting ones, just like her mother used to make.

“I’m fine,” Terry said, convincing herself.

“Get her some water,” Dr. Brenner told the orderly.

“No!” she protested.

“Just water this time,” Dr. Brenner said. “I promise. You did a very good job. Now, let’s get you calmed down and then I have some questions.”

Terry had some, too.