Read The John Doe Page 20


  Chapter 18:

  John came to himself slowly, and for a while just lay there trying to work out what had happened. He touched his cheek. He’d been sick, it seemed, at least a week, from the feel of his face. They never shaved him when he was sick, just in case he was tempted into doing it himself, without a razor. Carefully, dizzily, he pulled himself up. Isaac let down the side of his bed, but when he took his arm, John snarled at him, “Get away from me!”

  Isaac stood back. John was convinced that this time he was not just sick. They’d done it to him, and maybe they’d done other things to him. John was filled with a roiling bitterness.

  Nicki put a cane in his hand, and he silently accepted it, using it to make his way to the shower. He was very shaky and needed it. But he snarled at Zack, too, when he came close to help. Expressionless, Zack stood back. Mark, in his office, was notified that John was awake, and flicked to the Ward 3 screens. John was in the bathroom, clinging to the washbasin with one hand and using an electric razor to shave with the other. He looked up and Mark jumped as the screen went blank, followed by two others situated in the bathroom. It wasn’t anything inexplicable, just a fist.

  By the time John came out, there was a breakfast on the table, and Isaac was trying to tell him that everything was all right, that he should just have something to eat, and then he could go outside, or to his room, or whatever he wanted. His soothing voice was ignored. John just silently dressed, though he accepted Nicki’s help to do the buttons and tie shoelaces. He trembled too much to do them himself. Without a look at the breakfast, John went to the door, finding it unlocked. It seemed that he had the same three guards who’d helped Isaac and Mark make him sick. Zack, Rudy, Timothy. Rudy started to walk close as John staggered, but Zack shook his head at him, and they spread out a little instead, wondering if he was about to collapse. He was very pale, still shook, and was far too thin again.

  All the same, he made it to his tree, and stood, looking up at the branch that he always jumped to.

  “Don’t go up, John,” called Zack, urgently, “You’re not strong enough. You’ll fall.”

  John looked at the ground, and shook his head, dizzily. It seemed he could barely see at all today, but he knew exactly where the branch was. He was surrounded by enemies who did unknown things to him while he lay helpless. Only the trees were friendly. In spite of the weakness left from nearly two weeks of lying in bed, he caught the branch and swung himself up into his tree, climbing to his own place. He sat a long time, hooking himself securely into a fork. Watching from a camera, Isaac thought he could have been sleeping, though he couldn’t see his face.

  The guards had a communication. Try and get him to lunch. John had no watch of his own, which he wouldn’t have been able to see in any case. They always told him when it was mealtimes. Calls went ignored. There was a consultation, and a check from those who watched the screens. He could have fainted, they concluded. Maybe a rescue was needed.

  Timothy had twisted an ankle last time he’d tried to climb that tree, so Rudy went up this time, slowly and carefully. John was leaning his head back against the trunk of the tree. He was very pale, and his eyes were shut. Rudy touched him on the shoulder.

  For a moment, John looked confused, and then furious. “Get out of my tree!” he said, and when Rudy tried to say something, he pulled himself up, and said even more forcefully, “Get out of my tree!”

  Rudy’s words were ignored. John was trembling, and spoke in a deadly tone, “Get out of my tree or I’ll throw you out!”

  Rudy shook his head, and descended. Sixty feet above the ground was no place for a fight.

  John held the branches of his tree. The tree would help him, she was strong and friendly. The lenses of the tree cameras were mostly very small, and tucked into holes made in branches, or in the trunk. Often their presence was disguised in a natural knothole. John held out his hand, and a foot long, pointed stick appeared in it. Carefully, the stick was pushed against the camera lens, and then bashed in with a flat surfaced stone, also conjured. One camera down.

  Methodically, John went from tree to tree, and destroyed each one of the tree cameras so carefully installed not so long before. Mark watched from his office with a slight smile on his face, as one screen after another went blank. It was hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of damage. It was apparent that John felt a little aggrieved.

  John stayed in his trees most of the day, sometimes sleeping. He didn’t want to talk to his enemies whom he used to treat as friends. There was no trust left in him.

  Once, Zack looked up, feeling his gaze on him. John was only fifteen feet or so up. Zack shivered. What was he thinking? For the first time, he thought he could really be in danger from the young, sick man who could sometimes access a strange power.

  Isaac and Mark were in Mark’s office. “We’ll have to do something, Mark.” Isaac finally said. “He’s not strong enough to go without food. And besides, this is John. I don’t think he can live and stay sane if he doesn’t have companionship.”

  Mark said, “Prendergast was talking to me. There’s been problems with discipline since we took John down. The men know, and they don’t like it.”

  “Rudy had a black eye ten days or so ago. There’s been fighting.” No screens showed John any more, although Mark had one open that showed the area of trees he was known to be in. Underneath, there were some graph lines, with occasional numbers coming up. Isaac crossed to the screen, and looked closely. “Tell him?”

  A nod, “We’ll tell him”

  John was tired and hungry. When Zack ordered him firmly to come down, and told him they were to go to Mark’s office, and maybe a few things could be explained, he did as he was told. Silently, he accepted the cane, but shrugged away the helping hand. Zack stayed close. John was not fit enough yet for this.

  When he entered Mark’s office, Mark calmly greeted him. There was an array of food on the large desk, although nothing else. John leaned against the wall, face impassive, as Mark remembered he’d done when he’d first told him the reason for his imprisonment. Mark said, “The cameras have been switched off, all but one, and even that one has been taken out of the network. I expect to destroy the film after this little talk.”

  John abruptly abandoned his cool facade. “What did you do to me?” His voice shook.

  Mark very calmly said, “We kept you safe from Forster. I had to have an operation, and Forster took over while I was off duty. We thought it best if Forster had no excuse to hurt you.”

  John just stood. He didn’t know what to believe. His head was buzzing with fatigue and he was filled with distrust.

  Isaac said, “Mark, why don’t you show him the scar.”

  Mark was a bit reluctant, but looked at John. John was never given a chance to retain any dignity. Silently, he undid his belt and drew his trousers and underpants down sufficiently that the livid scar from the inguinal hernia repair was clearly visible.

  John was irritable. “There’s no point showing me. I can’t see.”

  Isaac glanced at the guards, all of them politely looking away. He looked closely at the scar himself, and John looked surprised at Mark. “But that’s barbaric! Surely the healers could fix you without doing that to you!”

  Mark smiled and shook his head. “If they know a better way, they didn’t tell me!”

  John sat, and when Mark passed him some sandwiches, accepted one without demur, suddenly ravenously hungry.

  Isaac smiled and he also knew just a little more about the strange man. He thought operations were barbaric - where had he come from? And he could see if someone else saw. At the same time, he wasn’t reading minds, and didn’t even seem to know that they were acting for his own good until he saw solid evidence.

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