‘Does that hurt?’ Ray asks.
‘A little,’ I lie. Now that I have a minute to think about it, it’s quite painful.
‘Come on,’ Ray says, walking away. ‘I’ve got something for it.’
I stand up reluctantly. I look for Bo, but he’s caught up in a serious conversation with Raven. I can’t really wave him down without making it weird.
I follow Ray out of the circle of dormitories, past the greenhouse, and through some trees. As the foliage closes in behind me, I glance back over my shoulder, trying to judge the distance to the main camp. Could Bo still hear me if I yelled for him?
My feet slow and my breathing quickens when I see Ray is leading me towards a padlocked shed. There’s an axe driven into a weathered stump right out front. Every rational part of my brain knows that Ray is not Dr Goodnight, and he is not going to kill me with his family a few hundred yards away. But the rational parts of my brain are too busy freaking out to be effective right now.
I keep my distance while Ray unlocks the shed, one foot planted in case I need to run. But run where? I realize with a jolt that I don’t know my way back home. Not all the way. I know bits and pieces of the trail, but it’s so easy to get lost out here. I glance back over my shoulder again in the direction of camp, wondering what Bo would do if I screamed.
And that unearths a thought I don’t want to have. I bury it again.
‘Are you allergic to penicillin?’ Ray calls from inside the shed.
‘Ah . . . no,’ I answer back.
He pokes his head out of the door of the shed. I peek around him and see that long, thick flaps of plastic separate the doorway from the outside. Beyond them I can just make out stainless-steel-topped lab tables, glass beakers, scales, and other equipment, and shelves of neatly arranged white bottles. Inside the shed, everything gleams with the futuristic look of a spaceship. It’s like he’s opened a door to another world. Even the chilled air leaking out between the flaps of plastic smells dried and scrubbed.
‘Any history of blood clots?’
‘No,’ I reply, still trying to see over his shoulder.
‘I can’t let you in here,’ he says, understandingly. ‘It’s a clean room.’ That’s when I notice he’s put on gloves and some kind of backwards smock that reminds me of surgeon scrubs.
He disappears back inside the plastic flaps for just a moment. Not long enough for me to make up my mind about whether or not I want to run. He comes back out, minus the scrubs and gloves, and gives me a small tub of goo and a small, rattling bottle of pills.
‘The pills will bring the swelling down and help with the pain. The arnica salve will keep the bruising to a minimum,’ he says. His eyes drop and shift around.
‘You were a doctor,’ I say mechanically.
He nods.
‘What kind?’
His voice is reluctant as he answers. ‘Anaesthesiologist.’
I have to know. I don’t know why I have to know, because I don’t really want to know, but I’m in this too deep to back out.
‘What did you do?’ I ask. ‘Why are you out here?’
He stares at me for a while, caught. Then he really looks at me and takes my measure. He seems to make up his mind about something.
‘Assisted suicide,’ he replies. ‘I helped seven people end their lives.’
He pushes past me, and a mangled half-laugh huffs out of me while I watch him head back to the main camp.
‘You put them to sleep,’ I say. But he’s too far away to hear me.
I startle at Bo’s voice. ‘Hey,’ he says. I don’t know how long I’ve been standing here. He’s right in front of me. Bo dips his head down to look directly into my eyes. ‘Are you OK?’
I shake my head. ‘I want to go home now,’ I say.
‘OK,’ he says, looking spooked.
He starts to lead me back to the main camp to say goodbye, but I just can’t see Ray again or I’m going to lose it.