But something about seeing me flipped a switch in Gina, and she finally
saw the shelter for what it was – a processing plant for Dr Goodnight’s victims. Of course, there are plenty of people who live and work at the shelter who have no idea where the generous donations that pay for everything come from. Gina is one of them. Maria never was.
Maria had to know. She’s the one who had to turn a blind eye to the fact that guests sell drugs to the volunteers in order for it to continue. And she’s the only one who sees the books. She’s the only one who knows where the money is coming from.
I figured it out a few hours too late. It wasn’t until I saw Amy slipping into Mila’s place, like a new model coming off the assembly line, that it all came together for me. I could practically see the conveyor belt in my head. Picking up pretty young girls from town who had very recently acquired a habit and delivering them to Dr Goodnight.
Mila’s death wasn’t an OD, though. Dr Goodnight didn’t kill her. She got off the conveyor belt, but she still died.
Did I kill her? I search for rage in me. I try to blur Mila and Jinka together so I can concoct a grudge, but it doesn’t work. All I feel towards either of them is a softness that’s like love but soured a bit by the memory of all I’ve done wrong by them.
This is the way she came. Bo said there were two sets of tracks, so I know she was following someone. She might have even been following Maria, just like Gina’s doing right now.
After figuring out what the shelter was really about, Mila must have seen Maria entering the woods. She knew how to track, so she had time to go back home, get her gear, and then pick up Maria’s trail and follow it out here, hoping to find Dr Goodnight’s lab. I’m sure that she had a GPS in her gear. She was going to do exactly what I’m trying to do, which is come back with exact coordinates for the lab and give it to the police or the FBI.
And Mila died trying. There must be traps out here, or maybe some kind of alarm system. Mila knew the woods. She could hunt. Bo said her tracks showed skill, and she still got caught. I haven’t figured that piece of the puzzle out, either, and I need to, so it doesn’t happen to me. Like it’s probably happening to Gina right now.
I climb faster, but even if I get there while Gina is still alive, I don’t know if I can save her. If she’s been caught, I don’t know if I should save her. If I do, Dr Goodnight will know he’s been found out. He’ll torch his lab and disappear. The GPS coordinates will be useless. I’ll have no proof that he really exists. And after a few months of lying low, he’ll build a new lab, and the killing will begin again. Starting with Gina, most likely.
That’s what I’d do if I were him. And as sick as it makes me to admit it, I know I’m a lot more like him than I am like normal people. He and I are both on the other side of that fixed line. I may have never actually cut a person to shreds, but there’s plenty of blood on my hands.
But not Gina’s. Not yet. Rachel died because I didn’t show up. That’s not going to happen to Gina.
I run.
4 AUGUST. NIGHTFALL
I get a whiff of something like rotten eggs, but there’s a burnt-plastic edge to it, so I know I haven’t stumbled across a random sulphurous spring by chance.
I circle the smell as it moves on the breeze, fully aware that by doing so, I am increasing my chances of getting caught. As the sun lowers, the sweat on my back chills. Without light, the chances that I’ll be able to find the camp today lessens.
Finally, I discern the crisp edges of human-made structures through the trees. I don’t know what I was expecting. Probably a series of sheds or huts, but what’s out here is much more high-tech than that.
It took me so long to find the lab because it’s camouflaged. There are several soft-sided shelters that look like military tents or barracks right out of some jungle war. They look light and easy to move – ready to go in a moment if need be. No single shelter is excessively large, but there are several of them. I realize that, as I circled the area, I may have drifted too close to one without seeing it and already been spotted.
There are no dogs, though. I’d wonder why, but the stench probably answers that question for me. It’s a painful smell. I can feel it burning the inside of my nose, so I can only imagine what it does to a dog. Maybe it ruins their sense of smell? While it’s a relief that there are no dogs, it still leaves the question as to how Mila got caught.
I crouch down. I listen and wait. I hear a mechanical humming. Generators, I think. Behind that, I hear people – the thrum of voices, not the sound of bodies moving through leaves or the impact of footfalls. I take the opportunity to memorize the GPS coordinates.
I should go, but I stay. Darkness can only benefit me from this point on. I slip my pack off my back. When I’m sure no one is waiting for me to stick my head out so they can shoot at it, I move towards the voices. Stupid, I know, but I can’t leave Gina without knowing if she’s alive or dead.
When I hear her voice through the sides of one of the smaller barracks, my heart leaps with relief, then it falls. I should go. I should get the GPS location to people with badges and guns and the ability to stop Dr Goodnight. Stopping him is more important than both our lives.
But I don’t go. I’m not leaving here without Gina. I’m going to show up for her.
I skirt the outside, but there are no windows. I’m vaguely aware that I am afraid. My heart is pounding. I calm my rasping breath enough to hear what’s going on inside the tent.
‘She didn’t tell anyone,’ Maria is saying to someone else.
‘I don’t snitch,’ Gina growls, her words garbled like she’s drunk.
‘What about that bitch? The hot one,’ says a male voice. I can’t quite place it, but for some reason I think I’ve heard it before.
‘I don’t think Gina had a chance to say anything to Magda,’ Maria tells him. ‘Besides. We can’t touch her. Goodnight wants her.’
‘Yeah, but we should still find out if she knows anything,’ he argues.
‘She doesn’t know shit, Longmire,’ Gina spits.