Free The Cage by Ethan Cross Page B

I’ve found a way to treat your condition. I know that your father told you that you’re a monster, but you’re not. You’re just sick, and I can make you well.”
    “Did I volunteer to be your guinea pig? I don’t think so. And don’t pretend to give a damn about me or my well-being. You just want to use me to get your picture in the paper, to achieve fame and fortune. My father was a doctor just like you. He wanted to use me as well, to prove his own theories. No difference between him and you.”
    “Your father was a sick man and a piss-poor scientist. He wanted to cause you pain, but I want to give you peace.”
    Ackerman issued a sharp chuckle. When he spoke, his tone remained calm and conversational. “Why can’t anyone just love me the way that I am? I don’t want your cure, Doctor. I’m tired of being a lab rat. I’m tired of being locked away in a cage.”
    Ackerman stepped forward. Kendrick trembled and cowered, as if expecting a blow. “Please, don’t! I’ll give you anything you want!”
    Ackerman smiled. “Yes, you will, Doctor. But what I want is to play a little game.”

Having heard the shotgun blast, David and Jennifer hurried to help the others. David’s fear and trepidation grew with every step. Had he once again allowed the men under his command to be killed?
    As they approached the area where the noise seemed to have originated, he turned back to Jennifer and said, “I want you to hang back and let me check this out.”
    She nodded her affirmation, and he made his way forward through the darkness.
    “Ferris? Kendrick?”
    He received no answer, and his mind filled with several possible scenarios. None of them were good.
    “Ferris?”
    Still nothing.
    He swallowed hard and resisted the overwhelming urge to turn and run. Memories of a hunting trip with his father came back to him. After checking his son’s gear, Wilson McNamara had told his boy that if they encountered a bear or other predator, the worst thing to do was run. He had said that running would enrage the animal, and it would chase and kill him. He instead instructed the boy to stand his ground and show no fear.
    David had never verified if the advice was sound, but he tried to find strength in his father’s words. He realized, though, that he wasn’t merely standing his ground; he was attacking. He was provoking the predator into a confrontation.
    With every movement forward, he felt more ignorant for choosing to stop Ackerman. He felt more afraid. He was just some glorified security guard; why risk his life over this? He wondered if he should have simply let Ackerman slip into the night and become someone else’s problem.
    But then he thought of the men he had abandoned in Iraq. He had run then, and the predator had been chasing him ever since.
    More of his father’s words came back to him, words spoken the day that he had left for war. Courage isn’t the absence of fear; it’s taking action in spite of it. His father’s voice in his head seemed strong and infallible, and it gave him strength. The voice helped him beat back the rising surge of another panic attack.
    Swinging the shotgun into the next room, he spotted something strange in the water. After checking the corners for Ackerman, he crept slowly toward the floating shape.
    He knew what it was long before reaching it, but he still had to know for sure. He grabbed hold of Ferris’s shoulder and turned him over in the water. The face was a bloody mess of battered flesh.
    David fought the urge to vomit and reached down to feel for a pulse.
    As his fingers approached Ferris’s neck, a noise at his back drew him away. He swung toward it, shotgun at the ready. The flashlight careened into the water as both of his hands flew to the weapon.
    A closet door burst open, and a shadowy form dressed in a guard’s uniform spilled out of the darkness.
    David’s first instinct was to run, and he took a step away from the onrushing figure. Bumping into Ferris’s body, he