Suspicious Minds (Stranger Things Novels #1)(17)

Eight was definitely creative.

She ignored his presence, which she knew irritated him.

He crossed his arms one over the other. “It’s almost time for your supper and I thought you might want to go with me to the cafeteria.”

The cafeteria that he and the staff ate in, on a lower level. No one else could be permitted to see the children. And Eight wasn’t allowed to know there were other children here. They were all ordinary so far. He worried they’d infect her.

She continued to ignore him.

He took a step forward, and another. Discipline was good for children.

But…his colleagues were still keeping a close eye on him. He didn’t need a staff revolt. Soon enough, he’d have their loyalty.

Desperate times…

He reached into his lab-coat pocket and took out the packet of candy. “I got you a special treat, Kali. SweeTarts. I’m told they’re every little girl’s favorite.”

Eight leaped up, discarding the crayon and grabbing the roll before he could take it away. She tore into it and put a handful of the candies in her mouth. He’d have someone make sure she thoroughly brushed her teeth later.

“You promised me, Papa,” she said around a mouthful of sugar. She wiped her bloody nose with her knuckles. “Friends. You promised.”

“I know,” he said. “I told you I’m working on it. You’ll have new friends, eventually. Why do you think I got you bunk beds? For your eventual roommate to share with you. I’ve explained.”

And explaining to five-year-olds took patience. Again, not his particular virtue.

But his work with Eight had helped secure this opportunity. She was the first jewel of success who proved humans might be able to develop exceptional abilities, with the right encouragement. Her wild talents were still as hard for her to control as she was for him to. That didn’t matter.

He always managed it in the end.





7.


They’d been in the lab for eight hours when they got back in the van, and it had worn on them. Still, Terry felt strangely buoyant, especially considering the doctor had guided her back to the worst experience of her life. She couldn’t explain it.

Terry wondered if any of them would talk on the way back home, and if Alice even could be quiet. She hoped not. She wanted to talk, find out how everyone had fared.

But then Alice dropped into a doze that ended with her head on Ken’s shoulder. He met Terry’s eyes over the sleeping girl’s head. “I didn’t see this one coming,” he said, voice low so as not to wake her.

Terry tried to smile, but couldn’t force it. No talking, then. Alice frowned in her sleep.

Gloria stared out the window at the cornfields, hands gathered in a tidy knot.

What had their days been like? Terry was desperate to ask, but she kept the question inside. There was always next time.





1.


When the next session came, Terry found herself in a big room at the lab, with larger machines and several additional workers. And, even more intimidating, a wetsuit to don and a metal tank filled with water.

A tech pointed Terry to a changing room and she crammed into what might once have been a supply or custodial closet. The ghost scent of chemicals bolstered the theory.

Terry pulled the tight gray suit onto her legs and over her torso, shrugging into the shoulder straps. From the places it alternately pinched or bagged, she suspected the bathing suit was made for a man. In the end, it was no less revealing than the gown. But she could ignore that. The clock, until they dosed her, ticked away in her ears.

Squaring her shoulders and imagining she wore armor to overcome her nerves, she left the former closet. Brenner and his small team were waiting for her outside. They intended to submerge her in an elevated human-sized canister full of water with a long opening at the top. A steel ladder led up to it.

“I feel like Harry Houdini,” she said.

Dr. Brenner tapped a finger to his temple. “Only you escape through this.”

“I’m curious.” She leaned against a table. “How’d you end up a doctor, doing this kind of research?”

Brenner checked a monitor, shrugged. “The usual way. Medical school. An interest in public service.”

“Where are you from?” Terry adjusted a strap on her suit.

“Are we playing Twenty Questions?” he countered with a smile, walking over and handing her a bathing cap. She maneuvered her hair under it as best she could without a mirror. The edges pinched all the way around her scalp.

“I’m nervous,” she said, not a lie. “This is another thing I haven’t done before.” She nodded toward the canister.

“Sensory deprivation tanks can be quite pleasant,” Dr. Brenner said.

“Really?” Terry couldn’t resist poking a little fun. “You’ve been in one?”

“No, not personally,” he said, giving her the point. “But I’ve used them before in research. There’s nothing to worry about. Your vitals will be monitored the whole time. The lack of external stimuli helps with focus.”

“You want me to focus on…?”

“Expanding and exploring your consciousness. I’ll be here to guide you.”

“When do you tell me what we’re after? It might help me do better.”