The Jigsaw Man (27 page)

I might have told Drake to go stuff himself but I was

too busy listening to Junie. Under cover of Drake's

laughter, she put her mouth to my ear and quietly whis¬

pered two words.

She said, "Left pocket."

That was it, and Drake was dragging her off m e ,

pointing her in the direction of the door. She looked

back over her shoulder and I gave her the tiniest nod,

letting her know I understood. Then she was gone,

leaving me out in the cold with Drake and Jackson. I

knew what was coming before it was even said. I was

dumb but sure wasn't stupid. Game, set, and match. Dr.

Marshall was finally finished playing with m e .

"It's over, Mike," Drake said. "You're of no use to us

anymore. Dr. Marshall has done all he can with you,

and now that we have the photo and video evidence to

show how successful your transplants have been, the

time has come for us to part ways."

"You're letting me go?" I asked. I knew it wasn't hap¬

pening but what else could I say?

Drake j u s t smiled.

"No, Mike. I think you're smarter than that so I'll

j u s t give it to you straight. Jackson is going to take you

for a walk in the woods. We have a small cemetery in

there, an unofficial one, naturally, that we used before

the incinerator was installed. We could burn you, sure,

but I kinda like the idea of the worms and maggots get¬

ting a hold of you. Cremation seems too good for a

skinny little troublemaking prick like you."

I didn't say anything for a minute—partly because I

didn't want to give him the satisfaction, but mostly be¬

cause I was scared. I don't care what you see in the

movies, no one is brave enough to joke around and be

callous in the face of death. No one I knew, anyway.

Certainly not me. I did get one crack in, though, and it

made me feel better.

"Don't have the balls to do it yourself, h u h ? "

Drake laughed at that too. He was enjoying himself a

lot today. Bastard. "Whatever you say, Mike. I'll admit

I've enjoyed having you around. You've been a good

laugh and a refreshing change from most of the doc¬

tor's patients, but you've also been a royal pain in the

ass. W h e n it comes right down to it, my friend, you're

j u s t not worth my time. Face i t . . . you're a bum, Mike.

A good-for-nothing, expendable bum."

I wanted to tell him what I thought of him, tell him

how he was a psycho pervert steroid monkey or some¬

thing equally colorful, but no words came out. Silence.

My mouth was dry and my tongue felt swollen to three

times its normal size—the bitter bile-flavored taste of

fear nearly gagging me as I looked into his big stupid

grinning face.

Say something!

I hesitated too long and the m o m e n t passed.

"Get this piece of shit out of my sight, Jackson."

Drake said, t u r n i n g away, dismissing me as if I'd never

existed. That was how much my life was worth: noth¬

ing. N o t even a glance back.

before answering. "I have a son that lives in Jamestown

with my ex-husband. He's ... he's in a wheelchair and

Dr. Marshall promised—"

"You don't have to say it, Junie. Sorry I asked. After

everything you've seen, do you believe h i m ? "

Junie started to cry.

"No, not really, but I jiist kept hoping if
I
did what I

was told he'd help me. Part of me knows he's insane, but

the other part knows he can do what he says. He
could

help my son if he wanted to. For his sake, it's so damn

hard to walk away."

"I
can understand that. Honest. Before I came here
I

was ready to kill myself to help my daughter. Despera

tion is a powerful thing, but it's also a tool that psychos

like Dr. Marshall use against good people. He went off

the deep end a hell of a long time ago, Junie, and some¬

body has to stop him or he's going to keep t o r t u r i n g

and killing innocent people. We have to do something.

Help me."

"I don't know, Mike.
I . .
. I don't want to talk about

this anymore. Just get ready, okay?"

I wasn't letting her off the hook that easy. No way!

"Don't want to talk about it? You kidding me? You

work for a goddamned killer and j u s t because he's rich

and smart and tells you lies you want to hear, it makes

things okay? Look around, Junie. You can't keep turn¬

ing a blind eye. Have you seen the poor bastards in the

blood bank up on the fourth floor, for Christ's sake?

Would you like your son up there? He's better off in his

goddamned chair!"

Junie never said a word. She couldn't I don't think,

not without bursting into hysterics, and for a tough old

bird like her, that was really saying something. It told

me I was getting through to her, perhaps finally finding

the ally I needed around her to make something hap¬

pen. W h a t , I had no idea, but
something.

Then Drake poked his big shiny head around the

doorframe and started barking orders at both of us. I

didn't bother t u r n i n g to look at him, I was concentrat¬

ing on Junie, and I saw the lights go out in her eyes

when she heard Drake's cruel voice. The hope and cour¬

age inside her withered away, died right in front of my

eyes and I knew without her having to tell me that I was

on my own. She sympathized with m e , I'm sure of that,

but in many ways she was j u s t as much a victim here as

I was. H e r love and hope for her son, along with her

fear of Dr. Marshall and his walking muscle, Drake,

was too great for her to risk trying anything stupid. I

couldn't blame her. W h o was I to ask her to risk her life

and family for me? Nobody. Absolutely nobody. I kissed

her on her cold, wrinkled cheek, and without even ac¬

knowledging Drake I walked right p a s t h i m and out the

door.

He laughed at my pitiful show of defiance, but never

said anything. I took that as a minor victory and headed

for the video conference room with my head held high.

C H A P T E R T H I R T Y - O N E

I felt a little like a movie star. There were so many

video cameras r u n n i n g , halogen stands basking me in

bright light, digital microphones recording every sound,

and security staff as would-be photographers and videographers scurrying around following my every move

that I couldn't help but feel special. Stupid, I know. I

was well aware I was n o t h i n g more than a trained seal,

barking and balancing a rubber ball on my nose when¬

ever Dr. Marshall dangled a juicy fish under it. N o t

that I had any choice. Every time I complained or didn't

immediately do as instructed, Drake would smile and

casually open his jacket to show me the gun handle

protruding out of the waistband of his pants. That was

a fish I had no desire to taste, so I shut up and did as I

was told.

It was no big deal. Like Junie had said, all Dr. Mar¬

shall wanted was video and photographic proof that

my transplantation had been successful. I spent about

two hours walking, sitting, j u m p i n g , kneeling, jog¬

ging on the spot, and doing many of the same exer¬

cises I'd been working on with Junie for weeks. They

also had me catching and kicking balls of various sizes,

and doing things like writing my name or tying my

shoelaces to show I had decent dexterity in my hands

and feet.

It was tiring and tedious, but no big hardship. After a

break for lunch, I got a little upset—well, a lot upset, I

guess—when Dr. Marshall suggested I remove my clothes

and run through the same set of movements. He wanted

the videos to clearly showcase where he'd joined my

various body parts together. I told him to go fuck him¬

self, that he could stick it up his ass if he thought I

wanted him recording me naked. Five minutes, a nasty

b u m p on my head, and one short pep talk from Drake

later on how no one cared what J wanted, and I was

stripped down to n o t h i n g and parading around the

room like a good little seal again. It was humiliating and

I'd never felt so self-conscious in my life. I was officially

the freak I'd imagined myself as—the hideous Jigsaw

M a n on full display for one and all to laugh and point

fingers at. It was awful.

Eventually, a few minutes shy of three o'clock in the

afternoon, they gave me my clothes back and let me

return to my room. Junie brought me an early supper

but I wasn't up to eating anything. She tried to make

conversation, trying to make me feel better and snap

out of my funk, but I was in a sour mood and told her to

get out and leave me alone. I j u s t wanted to go to bed

and forget today had ever happened. I was asleep in

minutes.

C H A P T E R T H I R T Y - T W O

"You speaking to me today?" a voice whispered.

I bolted upright, surprised to see Junie standing at

the foot of my bed, holding an armful of clothes. My

heart was t r i p - h a m m e r i n g inside of my chest. I hadn't

heard her unlock the door or walk in, which was un¬

usual seeing as I was on constant high alert around

here. Must have been more tired than Fd thought,

dead to the world, the video shoot taking a lot more

out of me than my normal workouts down in the gym.

"Jesus, Junie. You damn near gave me a heart attack."

"You're not that lucky," she said, a half smile trying

to form on her face, but she couldn't hold it and I in¬

stantly knew something was upsetting her.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing. Well, I don't know. Something's not right.

Drake told me to get you up and dressed. They want to

do some m o r e videotaping today with you outside and

I'm not sure why."

"Who knows?" I said. "Doesn't sound like that big a

deal.
Jesus,
you don't think he'll make me strip naked

outside, do y o u ? "

"No way, at least I hope n o t It's too cold out for that."

Cold outside?

Wait a minute. Suddenly I realized that I had no idea

what month
it
was, never mind the date. H o w long had

I been here? It was September when I'd arrived, but how

long had passed by while I was zoned out from the vari¬

ous surgeries or drugged out of my mind recuperating?

"What's the date, Junie?" I asked, more desperation

in my voice than I'd intended.

W i t h a little trepidation, she answered, "October the

twentieth." Anticipating where I was going with that

line of thought, she said, "You've been here j u s t over

thirteen months."

Thirteen months! Has it been that long?

Well, considering I'd probably spent at least half of

those months either out cold or in la-la-land, I had no

trouble believing that. I walked over to the window and

took a good look outside—something I hadn't thought to

do in who knows how bloody long. I was expecting to see

dark storm clouds obscuring the sky and the ground be¬

low covered in a deep blanket of snow, but the sun was

shining down on a grassy field. Beyond the field I could

see a forest, and sure enough, I could see the leaves on the

trees had put on their fall colors and many had already

dropped off the branches.

"Doesn't look
that
bad," I said.

"Don't let the sun fool you," Junie said. "Windy to¬

day, cold enough to blow right through you and freeze

your bones solid."

The trees did seem to be getting whipped around

pretty good, especially the branches farthest up, which

were performing a strangely hypnotic lean-to-the-left

dance with the wind. Every few seconds, as if on cue,

they'd straighten up but then immediately be blown

back onto the dance floor.

"Make sure you wear a coat," Junie said.

"I don't have one."

"Sure you do. The coat you showed up in last year has

been sitting in a locker down in storage. I have it right

here. Couldn't find any of your other clothes, maybe

they got burned, but
I
found some other things that'll

help keep you warm. The boots might be a little big."

Junie dumped the clothes she'd been carrying at my

feet and the sight of my old blue bomber jacket put a

smile on my face. It was old and ragged, and probably

should have been burned with the rest of my stuff, but I

bent down and picked it up with almost reverent care.

My wife had bought me this coat for our last Christmas

and a tear slid out of my eye as I realized it was the only

piece of property I owned in the whole world. My legs

weren't mine. My heart wasn't even mine. But this rotten

old bomber jacket chock-full of as many memories as it

had holes was, and that made me feel good. Really good.

"Thanks, Junie," I said. "This coat m e a n s a lot to m e .

More than you'd think, looking at it."

"Good. Get dressed, then. Drake's going to come

searching for us again if we don't hurry."