The Memory Painter

Downstairs in the parking lot, the orderly eyed the SUV with a perplexed look on his face. “You sure you don’t want secure transport?”


Linz knew she sounded rude, but their time was running out. “He’s unconscious. Can we hurry this up?”

The orderly lifted Bryan like a baby and put him in the backseat. Linz jumped behind the driver’s seat and started the car.

Barbara hurried to move the gurney and got into the passenger seat. “Thanks for your help,” she said to the orderly, before shutting the door quickly. She turned to Linz and whispered under her breath, “Go, now.”

Linz drove just over the speed limit, trying to get past the guard station. His phone started to ring, but he had already gone to lift the rail. By the time he picked it up, Linz had already gunned it out of the drive.

She looked in her rearview mirror and saw him frantically trying to wave her down. She found little comfort in the fact that he didn’t pull his weapon or pursue them.

It was far more dangerous that her father knew.



THIRTY-NINE

“Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” Barbara erupted.

Linz continued driving, checking the rearview mirror every few seconds. Bryan leaned forward and reached out his hand to his mother. She squeezed it tight. “I have never been so scared in my life. Are you all right? Did they hurt you?”

“I’m fine. I promise.”

But Barbara didn’t seem to hear the words. She was on the verge of hysteria. “The nurse was talking about some procedure. What in God’s name were they going to do to you?”

“I don’t know,” Bryan lied. The less she knew, he thought, the better.

“Well, they just messed with the wrong family. I’m shutting that place down.” She turned to Linz. “And your father is going to jail for a very long time.” She got out her cell phone.