Page 79 of The Bull's Head

Byk stayed rooted to the spot, uncertain which way he could move that would be safe. Where was Teddy? Why wasn’t he here? He was certain he’d fallen asleep in his arms last night, and Byk doubted anyone could have spirited him out of the room or Wald without being seen.

A pulse of light to the left caught Byk’s attention. It was so brief, he couldn’t be sure if he’d actually seen it or if it had been wishful thinking on his part.

“Hello?”

His words were swallowed up by the darkness. He cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted, but again, nothing seemed to come out. Fear trailed icy fingers along his spine. This was like one of the experiments they’d done on him, placing him in a traumatic situation, then observing him to see his reactions.

No, he couldn’t still be in the lab. It just wasn’t possible.

Another flash of light, this time to his right.

Enough is enough. I am not afraid. I will not be afraid.

“I know you’re there,” he cried.

This time his voice echoed.

“Afraid” came a whisper. “So afraid.”

“I am not afraid!”

“Need him. So lonely. So scared. Where is he?”

The pain in the voice was obvious. “Who are you looking for?”

The light flashed again, and this time, for the briefest of moments, Byk saw him, plain as day. The overly large body, the hair that hung down to his shoulders, but there was something there that Byk had never seen before.

Unbridled terror.

“Cooper?”

“Cooper? Yes, that was my name. I forgot.”

“Come out where I can see you,” Byk insisted.

“No, afraid. The light burns.”

The light burns? “It’s me, Callum.”

“Callum?” There was so much hope in that word. “I need Callum. I’m so afraid.”

“I’m right here, Cooper. Come out where I can see you.”

“Callum will be so afraid of me.”

Byk clenched his hands by his sides. “I won’t be, I promise. Come out.”

“Dying. Afraid. Lonely. Feel it all slipping away. Need Callum.”

“I’m here!” Byk cried, then plunged into the darkness toward the voice. When he burst into the light, Byk stood there and did his best not to scream. It was Cooper, strapped to a table, the bright lights shining down into eyes that were held open by staples. “Cooper!”

Around him people bustled, one barking orders, telling them to hurry. The top half of Cooper’s skull was ripped away, his brain exposed. Wires had been hooked up to the fleshy bits, and on one of the monitors, Byk could see the lights dancing. Cooper was crying, tears mixing with blood before running down his face, leaving behind crimsons streaks that then fell onto the crisp white sheet below.

“Hurts. Dying. Callum, please. Callum.”

“He’s not going to last much longer,” one of them said, probing Cooper’s brain. “We need to do this now.”

“Then do it! I want this done before he dies.”

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