The room goes silent. Everyone is watching me. Indie looks like she wants to puke. Of all the people in this room, she’s the only one who truly loves Donovan. He was my friend. He helped me out. I put this whole thing in motion because I feel I owe him. But I don’t love him. Not the way I love McKay. I will be sad if this is the end of Donovan Couture. We’ve been travelling alongside each other for a long time now. But I will not be sick about it the way Indie will.
Still. We don’t have a choice. We try this, or we kill him. Those are our options.
“OK. I guess you guys know what you’re doing. Let’s do it.”
I’m pretty sure every man in history said something along these lines just before he changed the world in the worst way possible.
Doc Bolton nods, then picks up Donovan’s IV line and delivers a syringe of clear liquid.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE - DONOVAN
I am a prisoner in my own mind.
Is that what you think?
I’ve never really been… real. I’ve never been myself.
Wow. You are so delusional. What the actual fuck is wrong with you, bro?
Bro? I’m not your bro! I’m me. You’re no one—
Sorry, brother. That’s not how it works. But even if it were, you’d be the nobody, right? That’s you, Donovan. Pathetic. I’m the one in control. I’ve always been the one in control.
No. You are the sleeper. You are the interloper. You are the crazy bastard. The evil. The insane—
Good God, man. Grow up, will you? Why are you so stupid, Donovan? I mean, what the fuck, dude? None of this is rocket science. You have that big brain of yours and still you can’t figure out the simplest of puzzles?
Oh, I’ve figured it out. Like I said, you’re the submissive personality—
What personality? What are you talking about? If anyone is insane, Donovan, it’s just you, brother! You! There is no me!
What?
That’s right. There is no me, Donovan. I’m not Carter, OK? I’m just… you.
Lies.
Really? Let’s talk this through. Ready? You grew up the grandson of one of the most fucked-up men on the entire planet, in the history of the fucking world! He has a book. Remember that book, Donovan? What was in the book?
…
Don’t want to answer? Fine. I’ll tell you. That’s why I’m here. That’s the only reason I’m here, Donovan. The truth. That’s the cure. That’s the cure for all of them. For everything. It’s just that simple. The truth.
What truth?
Pedigrees. That’s what was in the book. Remember?
Yes. But—
Shut up. I’m not done yet. You grew up the grandson of one of the most evil men to ever live.
That’s not true—
The fuck it’s not! Does the word ‘hunt’ mean anything to you, Donny? Come on, now. They hunt babies on that island. Babies.
No.
You were there, Donovan.
No. That was Carter—
You made that up. Don’t you see it?
Of course. My second personality—
There is no second, Donny. It’s just you. That’s the hardest thing about this illness, isn’t it? Admitting that it was just… all… you.
…
Listening now?
…
I’ll take that as a yes. Good. Because we’ve got a lot to talk about and only about thirty seconds of real time to do it. I’m sorry, but I have to be blunt. I can’t risk the procedure they have planned.
This makes no sense. If you’re not real, if you’re me, then why are you talking like you’re someone else? Why are you calling yourself ‘I?’ Why are you calling me ‘you?’
Semantics. Who cares. The truth, Donny. The cure is the truth. And you’re about to get a massive dose of it. Let’s start with Santa Barbara, shall we?
What about it?
Don’t you find it convenient that your father died when you were only ten and that Adam’s father was killed as well? And don’t explain it away, OK? The time for excuses is long gone. Adam helped Sasha plan that massacre. And you knew about it. Who told you about it, Donny? Don’t worry, I’m not waiting around for your answers. Your brainwashing was so thorough and so complete, there is only way out of your self-inflicted cognitive dissonance. Ding, ding, ding! Correct! It was Grandpa Gerald. What a guy!
He killed Father?
Oh, don’t worry. That old man got what he deserved. We made sure of it.
And you say ‘we’—
Yeah. I mean you.
What did I do?
Later. Good old Gramps isn’t the important part of this story. He’s just how it started. I mean, he had his own son to experiment on. Your father. But there was a little too much rebel inside him, wasn’t there? He didn’t follow the path that was laid out for him, did he? But you, dear Donovan. That IQ of yours. That brain. It’s the kind of smart that comes once every… hell. Three, four, five generations? He couldn’t let you go to waste.