She pauses again. Turns her head sideways so she can look out the back breezeway windows.
Sasha turns back to me. “I know what you’re thinking. What cure, right? What cure? That’s why you came here, isn’t it? To make Donovan tell you how to fix your fuckup? There is only one cure for who we are, Nick. And I’m really fucking disappointed that you never figured it out and Donovan had to tell you.”
God, I wish I could talk. I have questions! So many questions!
“The truth, Nick. That’s the cure. It’s as simple as that. When I get back to Wyoming with this information, I won’t be cooking up a drug for those girls. The cure is not a pill. The cure is the truth, that’s it. Once you know the truth, you can accept the truth. And once you can accept the truth, you can move on, and grow, and find your place—wherever that may be.”
I think about this for a moment. She’s right, of course. Lies are the sickness.
The lies I told Wendy, that’s what fucked her up. Even if I was doing it to save her.
If I had just… trusted her that night. Just let her see what she did. Accept it. She would’ve moved on. It might’ve taken a while, but she wouldn’t have spent the next seven years in some in-between mind fuck that I put her in.
“One year,” Sasha says. “And then she’s gonna have a choice. I will send someone to confront her and either she passes that test or she doesn’t. And if she doesn’t, I will take her because you will have failed. I’m rooting for you. I want you to know that. I’m rooting for you because I’m rooting for her. The Company has fucked up a lot of people for a very long time. But us girls, we got it the worst. That’s over now. Saving as many of them as I can is my life’s mission. Adam…” She sighs. “Adam Boucher is a lot of things, but power-hungry isn’t one of them. Tell him…” She pauses. “Tell him thank you for taking over when the Company fell that last time. And tell him…” She smiles. “Tell him that it’s over now. Tell him to leave this haunted piece-of-shit place and make a new life far, far away from here. Tell him to forget about all of it. Tell him… if I need him, I’ll find him.”
She lets out a long breath, gets to her feet, swats the dust off her ass, and pulls a syringe out of her front pocket. She injects Merc.
He wakes up fairly quickly, confused and stumbling as Sasha helps him to his feet. “Come on,” she whispers. “We’re leaving now. We’re done here. Any information you need from Donovan, you can ask him on the plane.”
I can’t look up, so I don’t know what happens next. Merc agrees, I guess. He knows where his loyalty lies. Certainly not with me.
They start to walk away. But then Sasha turns back. “Oh,” she says. “And… one more thing. Maybe you’re thinking… Wow. Sasha is handling this whole ‘I’m alive’ thing pretty well. All those lies and she’s not angry?” She huffs. “I was mad. But it’s not fair to be. Because when you think about it, I’m really the one who’s been living a double life all these years, not you. Anyway. Harrison is waiting with a boat, then we’re taking off for Wyoming.” She kneels down for this last part. Points her finger at me. Wags it. “Stay out of Wyoming, Nick Tate. And tell your sister I said hi next time you two meet up for your birthday.”
She winks and twiddles her fingers at me in a mock wave goodbye, and then she stands up, walks off, and disappears.
I catch just one more glimpse of Sasha Cherlin through the breezeway windows as she and Merc slip into the marshy woods, heading towards the river, with Indie, Nathan, Maggie, Donovan trailing behind them.
Little by little the feeling returns in my body, but it takes hours.
The sun is trying its best to poke through the thick trees of the swamp by the time I can move enough to get to my feet and stumble down the breezeway and back into Donovan’s makeshift hospital room. Everyone is still out cold. I check Wendy first. She’s breathing fine. All of them are breathing fine.
So it’s just me. Until whatever they’re on wears off.
I decide to use my time wisely.
I decide to take Sasha seriously.
I decide to make Wendy’s cure.
I always was good at writing letters. So I go into Doc’s office, find a sheet of paper, and start writing.
Dear Wendy…
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR - ADAM
I have to admit… waking up the next day was traumatic. I had dreams, man. Wicked, fucked-up dreams filled with demons and darkness. I don’t know what that Lectra shit is, but I do know I will never drink it again.