Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

I lie on the couch at an awkward angle, staring up at Wes, and all I can think about is that I died.

I died.

I was dead.

And he's the one that killed me.

"You killed me," I manage to say, my heart wrapped in barbed wire.

He shakes his head adamantly. "No. I did not. It was an accident."

He tries to pull me to my feet, but I wrestle out of his grasp, stumbling to the chart table, picking up the knife.

"Stay back!" I yell at him, my head pounding. "Stay the fuck where you are."

"Sydney, please!" he barks, his palms splayed in desperation. "I did not kill you. I didn't hurt you. It was an accident!"

But he's wrong. I know he's wrong. He's lying like he's always lied to me.

"You pushed me!"

"I didn't! It was an accident. You slipped and fell. I tried to stop you, and I didn't. I couldn't. I missed." His eyes search mine, quick and feverish. "God. Please, you have to believe me, you have to! I'm the only ally you have, the only one who can save you."

"Save me?" I laugh bitterly. "We weren't even together, were we? We had broken up."

Is that why he killed me? Because he wanted to get back together and I didn't?

Fucking hell, why can't I remember anything?

Because you died. Whatever they did to Clayton, they did the same thing to you.

And that's when the truth sinks into my cells, infiltrating every part of me.

I died and was brought back to life.

Not by CPR. Not by a ventilator.

But by Amanita excandesco.

And before that, before they stuck that mycelia in my brain, I was dead.

I was dead for a long fucking time.

"I think I'm going to be sick," I mutter, my hand pressed against my mouth.

Wes takes that moment to lunge for me, but I'm quick, crying out as I instinctively slash at his arm with the knife.

He howls in pain, holding back his arm, blood pouring over his fingers, and I twist around to pick up the VHF. I press it down. "Mayday, Mayday! This is Mithrandir at the Madrona Lodge. We're in Klaskish Inlet and?—"

Wes yanks the radio out of my hand.

I quickly drop underneath the chart table, squeezing past him on my hands and knees, but then he's on me, tackling me to the ground.

I roll over, kicking at him, getting him in the face, the crunch of bone as I break his nose. He lets out a yelp, and I scramble to my feet.

I look around the boat, trying to remember where he might have a weapon. I know he has a rifle somewhere and also a flare gun. I'm also not thinking clearly because deep down, I know shooting him with either a flare gun or a rifle is the wrong thing to do, but I'm so panicked, I have to get away from him by any means necessary.

He killed me once, and he can do it again.

And then what?

Keep operating on me, keep me on that table like Clayton, keep bringing me back to life?

Finally, I see the fire extinguisher in the corner and yank it off the wall.

Just as Wes is about to get to his feet, I bring it down on top of his head with a sickening thud .

He drops to the ground, out cold.

I stand there and stare down at him, terror starting to shake through my body, my heart free falling in my chest.

Oh Jesus, what if I killed him?

What have I done?

"Wes?" I whisper.

I drop to my knees and feel for a pulse.

He still has one. And there's no blood from where I hit him either.

More memories threaten to come forward. I welcome them, wanting to understand, but they dissolve instead, like snowflakes, my mind too rattled and panicked to process anything. But even though I don't want him dead, I have to get away from here. From him. I have to get help.

The only place I can go is Madrona.

Everly brought me back to life, she's not the one who killed me.

She'll help me, right? Now that I know the truth, she'll help me.

I step over Wes and grab the VHF radio again, putting in another Mayday, saying the captain has lost consciousness, giving the coordinates that are listed on the GPS console.

I then run up the stairs to the deck. The wind and rain blast me, and I look behind me at the lodge. We're further down the inlet but still pretty close to shore. I go to the wheel and drop the speed down another knot so that the boat is crawling. The waves are hitting us, but I know outside of the inlet the swells will be much worse. I know a boat like this is made for blue water cruising and can take a beating, and as long as it stays on autopilot, Wes should get to Winter Harbor. Hopefully, he wakes up before it crashes into a dock.

I look back at Madrona, at the lights flickering through the trees. The power to the main buildings might still be out; it's hard to tell from here.

I only have one choice.

I grab the life ring from the back, slipping it over me like a Hula-Hoop, then step to the edge of the boat.

I stare down at the black water and waves, knowing it's going to be so cold when I land that I'll forget to breathe.

But knowing I've already died once makes it a little easier.

I take in a deep breath.

And I jump.

I land in the ocean with a splash, just as a wave crashes over my head. I hold on to the ring as tight as I can, all the air leaving my lungs, my limbs seizing up immediately. It's so cold I think it's stopped my heart, all the dark water whirling around me as I sink.

Then the buoyancy of the life ring snaps into gear, and I pop up through the water until I'm right side up again, staring at the boat as it slowly moves past me, guided by auto. I turn and start kicking toward the shore. It's only a few yards, and as long as my legs are able to keep moving, and as long as the waves don't crush me against the rocks, I should be able to reach it.

I keep kicking, telling myself to keep going, to not stop, that I'm going to make it, that I'll make it to shore and that everything will be alright, that Wes will be alright.

But at the thought of him, my heart bleeds.

I loved him. I truly loved him, didn't I?

And he loved me.

Why did we break up?

Why was I brought back to life with all my previous memories here erased?

And why can't I remember more? It's like I only remember the bits and pieces, I only remember the Sydney Denik from the Polaroid pictures. I don't know what I did when I was here. I don't remember how Wes and I fell in love, only that I know we were in love. I don't remember why Everly was so nice to me back then and why she's so cruel to me now.

I just don't remember any of it.

I know who I was before I stepped off that seaplane.

I know who I am after I stepped off that seaplane, three years later.

Somewhere in the middle, there is this other Sydney, another version of myself. One who fell in love and made a home for herself here. One who found family in the lodge, who never went back to California but stayed at Madrona year-round.

Did I…work here?

Yes. I worked here.

The realization dawns on me as I kick closer, trying to avoid the rocks. It's too dark to see anything, but I aim for a gentle slope under the trees where the shoreline looks more manageable, and it's here where the waves slam me into the shore, pounding me into the pebbles.

I gasp, spitting out seawater, and then crawl up on the beach. My body is starting to shake, and I know the hypothermia will set in soon if I don't get warm.

I manage to stagger to my feet, my sneakers sliding on the pebbles, and toss the life ring to the side. I glance over my shoulder at Mithrandir , bobbing up and down in the inlet as it slowly moves away.

What if you made a mistake? I can't help but think. What if Wes was telling the truth?

I can't think about that now. I'm here. He's there. And I don't know what to think. Where to begin. Even before all of this, he was acting erratic. Dangerous. He tied me up. He wouldn't let me call for help. He was kidnapping me. None of those things suggest he's someone with my best interests at heart.

But he loved you. He loved you.

I walk up the shore, my feet numb, but I keep going, making my way through the woods. I hear the trees whisper to me, but they don't bother me anymore, not when I know what's happened. Of course I can hear them; we're all connected by the same things. We are one.

But even though the lodge didn't seem very far at first, the more that I walk, the harder it is to keep moving. I can't feel my feet, my heart rate is slowing, and it's getting hard to breathe. My body won't stop shivering, my teeth chattering so violently I'm afraid I'm going to chip a tooth.

You died , I remind myself. You fucking died, and you're worried about a tooth.

I keep going.

Eventually, I see lights through the trees.

"Help," I call out, but I'm too weak to make a sound. I'm too weak to even think of a plan.

What was my plan again?

I escaped Wes, and now…I tell Everly?

The very Everly that probably cut my brain open?

She was trying to save you though , I tell myself. Everly was your friend. Think of the photos. Think of those moments.

I stumble out of the forest and collapse right outside one of the staff cabins.

"Help," I cry out again, louder this time. "Help me."

But the storm is too loud.

So I crawl, pulling myself forward over the dirt until I reach the path, and then I crawl to the front door and start pounding on it with all the strength that I have.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps on the other side.

The door opens.

A flashlight points down at me.

"Sydney?" It's David's voice. "Oh my lord."

I stare up at him. "I think I might have killed Wes," I croak.

His eyes widen, and then he's reaching down and pulling me to my feet and bringing me into his cabin. He puts me on the couch and wraps a blanket around me, then picks up his walkie-talkie as he goes around and starts lighting candles and emergency lanterns.

"Everly? We have a situation here. I have Sydney in my cabin. I think something happened between her and Wes."

The radio crackles. "I'll be right there."

He puts it down and looks down at me. "What happened?"

I can't even answer I'm shivering so hard.

"Fuck," he swears. I don't think I've ever heard him swear before, but then I remember what he's like when he loses at poker.

He disappears down the hall, and then when he comes back, he's got an emergency kit with him. He unzips it and rips open a silver space blanket.

"Before I use this, I'm going to have to take off your clothes and put you in dry ones," he says. "Do you consent to that?"

I snort. Just like I consented to being an experiment?

He gives me an odd look and then takes my sweater off, then my jeans. I make it extra awkward for him since I can barely help.

"I re-remember," I manage to say, teeth chattering. "What a sore l-loser you are."

He pauses to give me an incredulous look.

"At poker," I finish.

His eyes widen, brows reaching the ceiling.

He knows that I know.

His hands are shaking now as he slips a crewneck sweater over me just as Everly and Michael come bursting through the door.

"What the hell happened?" Everly asks. "Syd, are you okay?"

David looks at them tersely. "I think she knows."

Everly and Michael exchange a look of surprise. Then Everly looks back at me. Really stares at me.

I stare right back at her. "Hello, Everly."

Her eye twitches, and she slowly nods. "Hello, Sydney." She lets out a shaky breath and slowly walks over to me, dropping to her knees beside me, placing her hand on my thigh. "Where is Wes?"

"He's gone," I tell her. Her mouth drops open. "He's not dead. But I'm worried he's not alright. He's on the boat. He's out at sea. On auto-pilot. I had to knock him unconscious."

"Why?" Michael asks, crossing his arms.

"Because he kidnapped me. He tied me up. He was taking me away from here."

Everly's eyes narrow. "But didn't you want to leave?"

"Not in a storm. And then I remembered…I remember." I pause. "Did you know that he killed me?"

The three of them tense up and exchange a look I can't read.

"I'll put on some tea," David says quickly. "I have some stuff that will warm you right up."

He disappears into the kitchen, and Everly gives my knee a squeeze. "What do you mean that he killed you, Syd?"

"I mean, I remember," I tell her, though my brain feels fuzzier by the second. "We were arguing on the boat, and I nearly hit my head on the table. That's when I remembered everything. I remembered how I died."

Michael clears his throat. "And you think Wes did this on purpose?"

"He pushed me," I tell him.

"Do you remember him pushing you?" Everly asks.

I nod. Though now that I try and think about it, try to pull up the memory, it changes slightly. It becomes blurry.

"This is new information," Everly says. "You know, we always suspected his anger would get the best of him. He was so obsessed with you, Syd, do you remember that?"

I frown and put my head in my hands. "I have no idea what I remember anymore. I saw the pictures he kept, and I remember those scenes, but everything else…I don't remember what I was doing at Madrona. I don't remember when Wes and I got together and why we broke up. You say he was obsessive..."

"Very," Everly says. "We were often fearful he would do something."

"Everly," Michael says in a warning voice.

"What?" she says, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "It's true. He couldn't let you go, could he? He wanted you to be his, and if you couldn't be, no one else would have you."

I swallow hard. No. That doesn't quite make sense. Wes may have killed me, he may have been violent and abusive in that moment, but that doesn't mean he actually murdered me in cold blood.

"No. No, it was an accident," I say, the memories swirling again. I try so hard to pinpoint the moment, but I can't. Earlier, it had been there as clear as day, but now it's just a haze. Perhaps hitting my head and actually dying did that.

Maybe I don't remember any of it all.

Maybe my mind is filling in the blanks, making me think I do, based on the events that happened earlier.

"Tell you what, Syd," Everly says. "When this storm is over, we'll get the police involved and press charges. Say he tried to kill you."

"Everly," Michael warns again. "Let's discuss this before we do anything rash. There's a lot here that will be hard to unpack for anyone, let alone the cops." He looks to me. "You said you left him on his boat. Do you know he's alive for sure?"

I nod as David comes out with a hot mug of tea. "He had a pulse. The autopilot is set for Winter Harbor. But what if he dies on the way there? What if I killed him?'

"Hmm," Michael says, not seeming bothered by that idea in the slightest. He takes out a walkie-talkie and presses the button. "Keith? Is Roderick with you? Send a Zodiac out to intercept Mithrandir . It should be out in the inlet. Navigation lights on. And yes, I'm aware there's a storm."

"You're stopping him?" I ask.

"The cops might not be able to do anything, but we can," he says with a grin that sets my teeth on edge.

"Can I just say how wonderful it is to have you back, Syd?" Everly says, squeezing my knee. "You're one of us again. You gave up on trying to change the lodge. See what happens when you let the lodge change you?"

Change me into what ? I think as I take a sip of the tea. It's bitter and acidic, but the heat is soothing. What am I now?

"But how was I one of you?" I ask. "Why did I stay at Madrona?"

I try to think, but my head starts to pound. I wonder if the mycelia in my brain are working extra hard. The idea of it, of what's actually happening in there, makes my mind spin. I have so many questions, and I don't even know where to start.

"You had nowhere to go without that scholarship," Michael says.

Scholarship? Oh yes. That was real. That happened.

"You stayed because you were ambitious," Everly says proudly. "Because you wanted success above all else. Because you know you are made for great things. Because you proved your worth. That brilliant mind of yours discovered the secret to all of this, after all."

I stare at her woozily, not understanding.

"It was you who eventually found out the receptors needed for the fungi to grow and create new synapses," she tells me. "It was you that took this from a groundbreaking cure for inflammation and brain injuries, from Parkinson's and Alzheimer's, and managed to do something even more profound. You found a way to cheat death."

I blink at her, the room spinning slightly.

"What do you mean?" I ask, but my words sound funny.

"You're the one who made the breakthrough, Syd! It took time, but you did it. It was your research and discovery that made it possible for us to kill that mouse, to bring it back to life. And then when we were ready for human testing, well, you're the one who found us our first patient. We couldn't have taken that leap without your lapse in morals."

The world drops out from underneath me. I go still, but the room keeps spinning.

No.

"What?" I whisper, my heart full of lead as memories threaten me.

"A suicide was a happy accident," Everly says. "Poor Farida just couldn't stomach the program. But when you suggested we cut open her head and use the mycelia on her, well, we couldn't refuse. Sure, it didn't go right the first time. Or the second or the third. But you were very persistent, and eventually, you got it right." She pauses. "Too bad you never saw that advancement. Because we had to use it on you."

"No," I gasp, trying to shield myself from the memories that keep flooding in.

No, I would never.

I would never.

But I remember, I remember.

I remember who I was.

The Sydney of back then.

I remember…

I was the bad guy.

The horror is a blade to my throat.

I'm the villain here.

The mug drops out of my hand, tea splashing on me.

"That wasn't me. It wasn't me. I could never…"

"You'd be surprised what humans are capable of when certain parameters are removed, when the rules no longer apply," Michael says. "It's part of what makes this field so fascinating."

I try to move but I slump back into the couch, my limbs growing heavier by the second as I realize what has happened.

The tea.

"You…you drugged me," I say, dread taking hold.

"Well, we had to, Syd," Everly says wryly. "We don't want you fighting back like last time." She looks up at David. "Call Carvalho and get the OR prepped."

"I'll go myself," David says. "You sure you both can handle her?"

Everly looks back at me and smiles. "Of course. Don't worry, Syd. Soon, you won't remember any of this. We'll rewire you and start again. Do you know how many times we've had to stop and start your brain?" She laughs. "No, of course you don't. That's the whole point. How many times your mind has died and been brought back, well, I stopped counting. But don't worry, your body is keeping count."

Michael smiles at me. "You're used to it."

Then David leaves the cabin.

Everything blurs.

And Michael and Everly step closer.